Training Day
by The Blue Raven
Summary: Vic discovers and this time believes the truth about Cole and soon finds himself drawn into a the middle of a case that could spell the difference between life and death for hundreds of thousands of humans. spoilers through 'Remember When' and for my fics
1. Revelation

****

Training Day

Summary: Vic discovers (and this time believes) the truth about Cole and soon finds himself drawn into a the middle of a case that could spell the difference between life and death for hundreds of thousands of humans.

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own them, but, hey, just as soon as that deal with Zin goes through… 

Timeline: After "Remember When", after my fic "As I Already Know Your Heart"

Spoilers: "Cloud Nine", "Breach", "To Catch a Dessarian", "What Lies Beneath", "Remember When"

Feedback: Better than Fek-Maln. Always welcomed and much appreciated, so please, please feed me!!!

Chapter 1 -- Revelation

Detective Vic Bruno slipped into the last empty seat in the small briefing-room with a sigh. It was shaping up to be one of those days. His alarm-clock had failed to go off, meaning that he had overslept and nearly been late for work. He had dressed in a hurry, not even noticing his two mismatched socks until he was already halfway to work and too late to go back. He had been so pressed for time that he had skipped breakfast and shaved at various stoplights on his way over. The result was that his face was an intermittent patchwork of five-o'clock shadow and razor-burns. He had not even _known_ that it was possible to give oneself razor-burns with an electric razor, but somehow he had managed.

Detective Maria Cruz, seated next to him glanced over, a curious look. "Shave in the dark?" she asked with a faint smile.

"Don't ask," he told her, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. On top of everything else, he was developing a nasty headache.

"Sleep late?" she asked, handing him a bottle of Excedrin. Noting his pained expression and knowing her friend, she was willing to bet that he was working up to a nasty tension headache on top of everything else. "Tough night, Vicky?" she asked sympathetically, her mothering instinct kicking in. 

"Thanks, Mar." He shook his head at the use of the nickname, not one that he would have admitted having but one that had stuck nonetheless, but accepted the bottle and helped himself to several. The name itself did not bother him as much as it would have bothered most. He was just glad that she had stopped calling him 'kid'. Maria had a habit of mothering men and women twice her age, but she always did it in a way that managed to avoid ruffling feathers or injuring professional pride. "Alarm clock didn't go off. Why hasn't the briefing started yet?"

She shrugged. "Eh, new case. Don't complain, though. Means you haven't missed anything." She smiled reassuringly.

Vic nodded and handed the bottle back. "Mar, you ever wake up and just _know_ that you're going to have one of those days?"

She frowned, concerned. "You feeling okay? Not coming down with something."

"No, _mom_." Vic shook his head, amused. "Thanks for the Excedrin." He tossed the bottle back, and she deftly caught it in one hand without really looking.

"Welcome." She tucked the bottle away again and patted his shoulder. "Look on the bright side. Day couldn't _possibly_ get any worse."

"Here's hoping…" Vic smiled wryly. He opened his mouth to speak again when Captain Hansen walked in.

"Gregory James," Hansen said, handing out file folders. "Wanted for questioning in the murder of his lover, Robert Marin. ME places the time of death between two and four this morning." 

Vic leafed through the file as Hansen spoke, talking about recent Domestic calls to the residence of Gregory James and Robert Marin. James had been a hairdresser until a few weeks ago. Marin, his lover, was a CPA. Now Marin was dead, probable cause of death blunt-force trauma with a baseball bat. His death had not been quick, and it had definitely not been pretty. According to the ME, James had taken his time with it, first disabling Marin with a few well-placed blows, keeping him from fleeing or defending himself. Throat and wrists had been slashed, post-mortem, either in a frenzy or in an attempt at depersonalization. More sharp-force trauma was evident on the body as well. The face had been basically obliterated. The scene had also been destroyed after the attack. James, in some kind of blind rage, had taken the bat to the TV, lamps, computer, _walls_…

Vic looked over the report, shaking his head. The guy seemed to have just snapped. Until a few months ago, he had been a model citizen in every important respect. He looked at the photo of James, shaking his head again. The man even _looked_ like a stereotypical gay hairdresser. Short and slender, the man smiling up from the photo looked like he would have passed out at the sight of blood if he cut himself shaving. Men like that did _not_ beat their boyfriends to death. Except that this one apparently had. To look at him, one would have been hard-pressed to believe him capable of this kind of violence. Except that a neighbor had _seen_ him fleeing the scene, still covered in the victim's blood.

As Hansen left and the Detectives and Officers started filing out, Vic grabbed Maria's arm. "_You_ processed this scene?" he asked, noting that she had been the one to sign off on the report.

Sitting back down, she nodded. "Yeah, I did. Vic this was… I don't know. This guy had some kind of psychotic break or something," she told him in a low voice. "I've never seen a scene that looked quite like this. He swung that bat into the wall and left _dents_ a couple of inches deep. We know he did this _after_ he killed Marin because there's blood embedded in the dry-wall." She paused. "Vicky, I consider this part of a trend," she admitted in a low voice.

Vic nodded. "Law abiding citizens have been snapping and turning into criminals overnight, or just plain dropping off the face of the earth. What's it been now? A year?"

The trend was disturbing to those few who had noticed it. A few dozen extra homicides, a few dozen more missing men and women, did not _really_ make much of a difference in the grander scheme of things. It was not even really enough to register as more than a blip in crime-statistics, but what disturbed that handful of men and women who had noticed it was how unsuited _any_ of these new killers were for killing, how unlikely many of those who had just disappeared _were_ to just up and vanish. Nothing was said officially, the new numbers barely registers on the FBI's yearly Uniform Crime Report, but a handful of seasoned cops knew that they were seeing something abnormal in this trend and were quietly keeping an eye on matters.

  
What troubled Vic more than the new murders and disappearances was how many of these suspected killers and missing people were suddenly turning up dead of unknown causes. Once the suspect was dead, no further investigation was deemed necessary. The result was that none of the handful of officers who had taken note of this disturbing new trend had the slightest clue as to what was behind it. There were not many who had even noticed, Vic, Maria, a handful of other robbery/homicide cops, and they were staying tightlipped, half-sure that they were imaging this new trend and completely sure that no one else would believe them. In fact, it was the first time either Vic _or_ Maria had mentioned their private suspicions out loud, even to each other.

"Longer now." She sighed deeply. "What do you reckon? New drug?"

Vic nodded slowly. "It's a possibility. Might explain why so many of them are suddenly showing up dead, but…" He shook his head. It was not _just_ that all of the toxicology screens were coming back negative and that no one could figure out what was killing these people. The theory just did not ring true for the Detective.

Maria sighed and nodded in agreement. "I know. Something's just not right here."

"You can say that again." Vic nodded and rose. "Come on, Mar. Let's go catch a bad guy."

***

"I mean, how does a guy that size do that kind of damage?" Vic said, shaking his head as he and Maria walked down the street. 

Detectives were canvassing the area in pairs, searching James' favorite haunts, old and new. Neighborhood bars, the community-center where he had volunteered and spent most of his free time, the strip-club where he had started working. Vic and Maria had been assigned to downtown Chicago, in an area known for its bars and strip-clubs, one of James' new haunts.

"Drugs, I guess." She shrugged and shook her head. "Do you…" She trailed off as they rounded a corner and came face to face with Gregory James. 

Vic stared at James, startled by his outward appearance. His eyes were wide, his expression feral, nothing like the smiling visage from the photo. He had not even bothered to clean the blood off his clothes. James regarded them for a moment, a smile slowly spreading across his blood-smeared face. Vic had seen the expression before. It was wild and predatory, a look that seemed more natural on the face of a rabid animal than a human.

As Maria reached slowly for a pair of handcuffs, Vic quickly drew his gun, covering her, hoping it would not come down to having to use it. "Gregory James," he began. "You're under arrest for the murder of Robert Marin."

Before either Detective could react, James grabbed Maria and shoved her roughly, face-first into a wall before turning on his heel and running. Bending over the dazed woman, feeling her pulse and visually assessing her condition, Vic hesitated for a split-second before he saw Craig Morris, another Detective who had been canvassing the area, running to their aid. As Morris knelt to help Maria, Vic took off after James.

"Call for backup!" Vic shouted over his shoulder to Morris. He holstered his weapon as he ran, not wanting to risk an accidental firing if he tripped, but he kept the holster unsnapped and one hand close to the weapon, ready to draw it again as soon as he stopped.

James was surprisingly quick, and Vic nearly lost him more than once, but the Detective had always made a point of keeping himself in top physical shape. Drawing on reserves he had hardly known he had, he put on an extra burst of speed as James rounded yet another corner. Growing winded, Vic was relieved to round the corner and realize that James had managed to corner himself in a blind alley.

"Okay, Mister James," Vic said in a gentle tone that did not at all echo his current sentiments towards James. "Just relax. We just want to bring you down to the station and ask you a few questions, that's all…" He drew his gun again, but did not level it at James yet. Hoping to resolve things without any further bloodshed, he kept it ready but not pointed at James.

"Bring me down to the station?" he scoffed, turning to face Vic. "And how are you going to manage that, hmm? A bit of judicious police brutality, perhaps?"

Vic sighed and mentally counted to ten. "This'll be a lot easier if you just cooperate," he said in his most soothing tone of voice.

"Yeah, but it'll be a lot more _fun_ if I don't."

Vic blinked, a little thrown by that comeback. If he had been facing a man twice the size of Gregory James, he would have been very worried. As it was, he was only _slightly_ worried, if more than a little confused. He regarded James warily, aware that he would have to holster his gun if he planned on cuffing him. At the moment, he was not entirely comfortable with that. Knowing that his backup would arrive shortly, he wondered if waiting would not be better. The problem with holding the man at gunpoint, though, was that he did not seem in the least intimidated by the weapon.

"Mister James, you have the right to remain silent," he began.

"What's your name, human?" James asked abruptly, cutting Vic off.

Vic frowned and shook his head. _Human?_ Freak… "Detective Victor Bruno," he answered, emphasizing the word 'Detective'.

James nodded and smiled widely. "Good. I always like to know the names of my victims. Makes killing them so much more… _personal_."

With the last word, the little man lunged at Vic, tearing the gun from his hand before the Detective could even _think_ about firing it. Wearing a gleeful smile, he casually dislocated Vic's shoulder, his smile widening as Vic howled in pain and dropped to his knees.

"Have we established who's in charge yet?" he asked cheerfully. He _loved_ this part, seeing the fear in his victim's eyes as they realized that they were outclassed and at his mercy. There was something so gratifying about it, and soothing as well, in some indescribable way.

Grabbing Vic by his injured arm, he jerked him to his feet, drawing another pained cry from the Detective. With a swift motion, he tossed Vic across the alley and into a wall, casually and with as little effort as if he had been flicking a cigarette-butt onto the street. Walking over, he bent down, smiling widely at Vic. Another quick move snapped a bone in his leg, tearing yet another shriek from him. He picked Vic up again and shoved him against a wall, holding the Detective with a single hand around his throat, and allowed his feet to dangle several inches off the ground.

Vic had been too stunned to react to the initial attack. The speed that the little man had displayed had been almost super-human. The ease with which he had broken Vic's leg, dislocated his shoulder, and tossed him across the alley suggested that the man was on some _very_ serious drugs. The smile which Gregory James wore throughout suggested to Vic that Maria had been right. The man was abso-frigging-lutely psychotic. 

Dizzy from pain and loss of blood, Vic was fleetingly aware that his only real hope was that his backup would arrive soon. Looking around, the alley, though, he realized that he had run farther than he thought. The chances of the backup finding them before Gregory James managed to kill him were small.

Gagging and choking, he clawed desperately at the hand that was slowly tightening around his throat. His right leg dangled useless, blood soaking his torn pant-leg and dripping onto the ground. He could tell from the tear in the fabric of his pant-leg that the fracture was compound, could _feel_ the bone poking through muscle and skin. The pain was almost unbearable, but he suspected that it was also the only thing keeping him conscious at present. His air-supply was being slowly choked away, and the life was slowly draining out of him through the wound in his leg. The thought of dying on the job had never really scared him before, and he had come close more than once, but this time was different. Gregory James was not some man shooting at him because he was scared or out of options. Looking into his attacker's eyes, Vic _knew_ that the man was deriving very real satisfaction from the act of choking the life out of him, from watching him suffer and bleed, and _that_ was frightening indeed.

Closing his eyes, fighting against the increasing fog that was clouding his awareness, he mentally recited a Hail Mary, praying for the strength to survive this ordeal, to somehow break away, reach his gun. Clawing at James' hand, he struggled frantically, his efforts only increasing as he felt himself moving closer and closer to the void. Fighting harder, he redoubled his prayers as well. _Holy mother of God, please. Not here, not like this. Anything, please, just not like this…_

***

Cole had been Tracking Kellen since last night, immediately after returning from the capture of another fugitive. Kellen had remained quiet for some time, but now that he had killed again, there would be more murders quite soon, he was sure. That was how the Vardian worked. Better than ninety percent of the time, he led a quiet, law-abiding life. He would go _years_ without committing a single crime, then something would set him off and he would kill in a fit of anger. Having done that, recalling how much he liked the rush it gave him, Kellen would go on a spree for weeks or months, killing more or less at random until he got bored by it, at which point he would quietly return to his old life. On Earth or Varda, the pattern was always the same. Time was of the essence, and Cole knew it. He had been one of the Trackers who had brought Kellen to Sar-Top the first time. Except for human host, Kellen had killed only once so far, but Cole knew from experience that he _would_ kill again. Soon.

Cole had read about the murder in the paper last night, had been struck by the almost random nature of the attack. It was a pattern that had grown familiar to him in the past year or more. Hacking into the Chicago PD's database had told him all that he needed to know to recognize the work as Kellen's. The unexpected and seemingly unprecipitated nature of the crime, the disabling of the victim to allow more time for the kill, the overkill and mutilation of the already-dead victim, almost as if trying to erase him from existence, the seemingly mindless destruction of the crime-scene by a mind driven to the edge by the pleasure of the kill and the desire for more… All pointed to Kellen.

The Chicago PD's data-base had given him a face to go with the name mentioned in the news story, as well as information far more telling than the specifics of the crime itself.

Gregory James, 25. His friends described him as happy, carefree, and gentle. He loved his family, adored his mate and the other man's children, volunteered his time with a literacy program and a local animal shelter. He was the kind of man that anyone would be happy to have as a friend or neighbor. Or, he _had_ been. A few months ago, things had changed. He had stopped volunteering, had quit his job as a hair-stylist in favor of a job tending bar at a local strip-club, had become withdrawn, sullen, short-tempered. His partner had sent the children to live with his ex-wife, had threatened to leave himself. Then he had been murdered. Even if the crime itself had not told Cole that Kellen was probably behind it, the now-familiar lifestyle changes preceding it would have made him sure that it was _one_ of the fugitives. 

On hearing via his specially 'modified' police-band scanner that the Chicago PD had issued a warrant, actually had officers walking the streets to find Gregory James, Cole had known that his time was short. Kellen would not have hesitated to kill any police officer who confronted him. So Cole had gone looking, hoping to find him first.

He glanced down at the monitor in his hand, a refurbished Game Boy, modified to detect the unique pheromone that Vardians produced when excited. It was beeping slowly, indicating that Kellen was somewhere nearby. Cole heard a pained cry as the monitor began beeping faster. Hyperspeed, unfortunately, was not an option then because he had used it less than a day ago in capturing another fugitive. If it had not been so pressing to capture Kellen quickly, he would have waited to recover that ability before starting out. He broke into a run, aware that he would have to move quickly to prevent another murder. More shouting made him run faster. The monitor led him directly to the alley, which was as well, because the screaming had stopped. 

What he saw as he came to a stop stunned him.

Kellen was there, holding Vic Bruno several inches off the ground, one hand wrapped firmly around the Detective's throat. Vic's leg was clearly injured quite badly. His pants were torn and already soaked with blood. Although he still seemed conscious, his eyes were closed and his lips were rapidly turning blue, even as the rest of his face turned a sickly gray. Knowing that the Detective was close to death, Cole acted quickly and without thinking.

"Kellen!" he called loudly. "Put him down."

Startled, Kellen complied, dropping Vic into a heap on the ground and turning to face Cole. Vic's eyes snapped open and he stared at Cole, startled by his sudden appearance and disoriented by the combined blood-loss and oxygen deprivation. At first, his vision was so foggy that he was not even sure it was Cole's voice he had heard. Even as oxygen began making its way back to his brain and his vision cleared, he remained confused by Cole's presence.

"Cole, get out of here!" he ordered, shaking his head as Cole slowly closed on Gregory James. His mind was not entirely capable of coherent though, but he did know that Cole was no match for Gregory James. He would get himself killed trying to play the hero. "Cole, go!" he ordered as firmly as he could manage, hoping that the man would have the sense to flee and call for help.

"I can't do that, Vic," Cole told him gently, shaking his head, refusing to leave the injured man to the Vardian's mercies. "Kellen, it's time."

Vic stared. _Kellen?_ Cole thought James was someone else. He was going to get himself killed.

"You think I'm going to let you take me alive, Tracker?" he sneered.

Vic shook his head weakly, trying to make sense of the scene. Kellen? Tracker? What did they mean? Nothing about the situation made any sense to a mind clouded by pain and plagued by dizziness. 

"I don't think you have a choice, Kellen," Cole replied gently. He spared a quick glance at Vic. The man was clearly hurt quite badly, bleeding heavily. Cole was not entirely sure how much blood a human could afford to lose, but he would need attention _eventually_. "Well, _one_ choice. Will it be quick and painless, or slow and difficult?" he asked, hoping that Kellen might opt to cooperate, allowing Cole to finish with him quickly and turn his attention to the human Detective. It was unlikely, Cole knew, but for Vic's sake he hoped. 

Kellen scoffed. "For _you_? Slow and difficult."

Cole sighed and nodded, regarding Kellen cautiously. Like all Vardians of the warrior caste, he was a dangerous foe under the best of circumstances. Cornered and consumed by blood-lust, he _would_ be worse. The fight promised to be long and punishing for both. He spared Vic a final glance, assessing his injuries and making a few guesses about his condition. As bad as his injuries were, Cole did not think that the human was in _immediate_ danger. As long as he could prevail over Kellen, Vic had a good chance of walking away from this. Nodding to himself, Cole sprung at the Vardian.

Kellen reacted quickly, as Cole had known he would, stepping away only to discover that the initial attack was no more than a feint. Cole spun in the opposite direction from that in which he _had _been going, catching Kellen in the chin with a sharp uppercut that sent the Vardian flying twenty feet or better, directly into a brick wall. Cole pressed his advantage, rushing to Kellen. The Vardian jumped to his feet, raining blows on Cole, forcing the Cirronian to raise his hands to protect himself. A brutal punch sent Cole flying easily thirty feet backwards. Kellen closed that distance quickly, ready to press his own advantage.

Vic watched, stunned and horrified by what he was witnessing. As sure as he had been that James was strung out on something, it was clear to him that Cole must have taken the same drug before coming to face him. But why? That question was one of many. Why was Cole interested in this man at all? Why was he fighting him? What were the two men to each other? What were they involved in?

Cole jumped over Kellen's head, landing behind him. Kellen ducked under another punch from Cole, using his telekinesis to send a trashcan flying at the Cirronian, buying himself time to fall back as Cole dove out of the way.

Vic stared, amazed and not entirely believing the evidence of his own senses. The jump he was almost willing to accept as being a result of some drug that increased adrenaline output and gave people almost super-human strength. After all, there were several drugs like that, more every year. But there was no way in hell that he had seen a trashcan flying through the air of its own volition. He was… hallucinating or something, had to be. _Blood-loss can make a guy see and feel some pretty strange things, after all. Right, Vic?_

Another trashcan flew at Cole as he was dodging the first, hitting him squarely and leaving him dazed. Unwilling to lose this fight, and with it any chance of saving Vic, Cole scaled a wall, clinging to it about thirty feet up, giving himself time to recover and regroup. This was not going well at all. They had reached a stale-mate. They could go on pummeling each other like this for hours without either gaining a clear upper hand. And while Cole was sure that Vic was not in any _immediate_ danger, he doubted that the Detective had hours.Besides, fighting for hours would leave him weak and potentially draw a lot of unwanted attention. 

He was determined to end this now.

Changing tactics, Cole dove directly onto Kellen. Cole's change in tactics took the Vardian completely by surprise, and he was able to use his own weight and the additional force generated by the fall to bear the smaller man to the ground. Flipping the Vardian on to his back, he produced the Collector and raised it high into the air. The Vardian's face wore that look that Cole had come to recognize from hundreds of fugitives before him. Less fear than anger, but a more than healthy amount of both. Kellen struggled beneath the Cirronian, trying desperately to break away, but Cole was in no mood to spend any more time fighting this man. He slammed the Collector into his chest and quickly withdrew his life-force, ignoring the almost pitiable combination of pain and horror that the fugitives always expressed during their Collection. Once Kellen's life-force was secure, he moved quickly to Vic's side to assess the man's injuries.

The Detective had seen everything and was staring at Cole with wide, horrified eyes. First the fight and then this strange weapon that Cole had used on the other man. Now Cole was staring thoughtfully at him… the only witness to this bizarre attack. Vic felt an uncomfortable certainty that he was not yet out of danger. When Cole reached towards his leg, he jerked away, huddling against the wall and shaking, too weak and too stunned to do anything else.

"Vic," Cole told him in a gentle, reassuring voice. As a teacher, he had used the tone a dozen times a day to soothe upset students. Since coming to earth, he had discovered that it worked equally well on distressed humans, even adult ones. "I need to look at your leg now. It looks like you've lost a lot of blood. I can help you. Will you let me?" He could easily have healed the human without his consent, even by force if necessary, but such an act seemed wholly unCirronian, and only likely to further distress the already-frightened man. 

Having just seen what Cole had done to Gregory James, aware that he was the only witness to this strange assault, Vic was less than eager to let the man touch him, but he was in no condition to keep him from doing so either. A voice in the back of his head nagged, demanding to know why Cole wanted to _help_ him if he planned on eliminating the only witness later, but he was too scared and too disoriented to be able to reasonably address that consideration. He closed his eyes when Cole gently began probing the break with his fingers. Frowning, he opened them again. It hurt, but not nearly as badly as it probably should have.

Cole continued probing the injuries, doing what he could to ease Vic's pain, for several moments. The bone had broken through muscle and punctured the skin, tearing the fabric of his pants where it had come through, but the break itself was cleaner than many such injuries that Cole had encountered in his life. It would be easy enough to repair. He looked up at the Detective. 

"This is going to hurt, Vic," he said apologetically. "I'm sorry."

Vic howled as Cole grabbed his leg with both hands and, with a single swift motion, forced the bones back into place. He stared at Cole, wide-eyed, wondering vaguely how he could have done that so easily. The pain brought with it a strange feeling of clarity, and the voice in the back of his head, the one that had early demanded to know why Cole wanted to help him, insisted that it should have taken several men and much effort to accomplish what Cole had just done single-handedly and without much effort. He was in for another shock, though, as Cole gently wrapped both hands around his leg at the site of the break and closed his eyes. As Vic watched, awed and more than a little frightened, a golden glow appeared under Cole's hands. The pain in his leg quickly receded, replaced by soothing heat.

"Get up," Cole directed gently, extending his hands.

Vic stared at him uncertainly. In spite of the sudden lack of pain in his leg, he seriously doubted that it was up to the task of supporting him. Putting pressure on it before it was in a cast would have been stupid.

"It's okay, Vic. Get up," Cole repeated gently, offering his hands again and nodded encouragingly.

Light-headed from blood-loss, and not sure if he was in any position to protest, Vic rose shakily. Dizzy, he grabbed at Cole for support, wincing and groaning as Cole tightly caught hold of the arm that had been dislocated.

"Is your arm hurt as well?" Cole asked, concerned. It took him only a few moments to ascertain that this injury was minor. He quickly forced the joint back into place, then covered Vic's shoulder with his hands, once more healing injured tissue and easing the pain that the human was obviously suffering. 

"There. Do you have any other injuries?" Cole asked gently.

Vic cautiously shook his head, not sure how else to respond. He considered bolting, but, in spite of the fact that his leg was, seemingly, as good as new, he was still very light-headed. Looking down at his blood-soaked pants, he knew why. _How much blood did I lose?_ he wondered.

"I'm parked nearby," Cole offered, sliding one arm under Vic's shoulder, knowing that he would still be light-headed. "I'll take you to the Watchfire. You look like you could use a cup of coffee. Okay?"

Vic nodded slowly, cautiously, wondering what Cole had planned for him, if his fate was to be the same as that of Gregory James. Coffee, Cole had said. Vic wanted something a _lot_ stronger. Cole wordlessly helped him to the car and into the front passenger seat before climbing behind the wheel. They drove in silence for some time, Vic occasionally glancing at Cole out of the corner of his eye. Cole seemed content to drive in silence, although he did occasionally give Vic a thoughtful glance. 

Cole glanced over at Mel's friend more than once, worried by everything that the human had been forced to endure today. Coming close to death was always a traumatic experience, with long-reaching effects. Cole understood _that_ from experience. The fact that he never let it show did not make it any less true. Vic, like all law-enforcement officials, regardless of planet of origin, might not let it show, but he would be no less effected by the experience. The fact that he had been attacked not by a human but by a _Vardian_, without any understanding of what that meant, or even of what a Vardian really _was_, would only add to the impact of the awful experience. And then there had been the look of horror on his face when he had witnessed the Collection process. Cole had grown used to it, but he knew from Mel that watching a Collection, especially if you did not know what it was or what to expect from it, could be horrifying beyond words. 

It had not been a good day for the human, Cole knew, and it would take a lot of work to erase the damage that had been inflicted and that went far beyond the physical injuries that Cole had healed. The other injuries, the psychological ones… _those_ would be harder to deal with. Cole could not heal that damage. Only time could do that, and the process was a slow one. Mel still occasionally woke up screaming from memories of Tev or Zin or one of the other fugitives, and Cole, who held her in his arms until she could sleep again, wondered sadly what Vic would do when the dreams came to him. For all of their differences, Cole liked and admired Vic greatly, and it made the Cirronian's heart ache to think of him suffering from the kind of dreams and doubts that afflicted Mel.

Vic glanced sideways at Cole from time to time as he drove in silence. More than once, he caught Cole examining him with a thoughtful, troubled expression. Vic could hardly blame Cole for seeming troubled. After all, he had just watched Cole kill a man. Or something… To the Detective's way of thinking, no one in his right mind would feel comfortable leaving a witness to an attack like that. Every glance in his direction, every frown, every stifled sigh, only confirmed Vic's suspicions that Cole's intentions were sinister, that he was in the midst of crafting some plan to deal with Vic.

Still not entirely certain what he had witnessed, Vic was sure that Cole was planning something similar for him. Which begged the question of why Cole had bothered to heal him at all. Of course, _that _begged the question of _how_ Cole had healed him. He spent the drive replaying what he had seen in the alley, trying to force it to fit into a context that he could understand only to find that there was _no_ context that made sense. When Cole pulled the car into Mel's parking spot behind the Watchfire, Vic felt a little relieved. Surely Cole would not do anything to him here. Would he?

"Come on, Vic," Cole said gently, helping him out of the car and letting them in through the back door. "Are you hungry?" he asked as they entered. "I can get you something to eat. Or a drink if you're thirsty," he offered, sensing that Vic was uncomfortable for some reason. No doubt still upset over that attack. A drink would help. Humans were not the only species who drank to forget their problems. Even Cole had been guilty of that particular form of escapism from time to time, though not since his arrival on Earth.

"I wouldn't say no to a large scotch."

"I don't think that's wise, Vic. You've lost a lot of blood," Cole pointed out gently.

"Small scotch, then?" Vic asked, very badly needing a drink. As much blood as he had lost, a small scotch would probably have about the same effect as a large one anyway.

Cole shrugged and circled behind the bar. "Okay, Vic." He poured a small scotch and handed it to Vic before pouring a cup of coffee for himself.

Vic regarded Cole warily for a few more minutes before realizing that there was _nothing_ to be uneasy about. Cole was not acting any different than normal as he leaned against the bar and casually drank his coffee. That alone was odd to Vic, but not entirely worrisome. If Cole had been agitated or acting abnormally in any other way, Vic would have been more concerned for his own safety. Cole did not seem to mind in the least that Vic had seen… whatever he had seen. 

Vic looked down at his bloody, rapidly stiffening pants. An assertion that Cole had once made sprung to mind for no good reason, one that had seemed ridiculous at the time, had left Vic _sure_ that Cole was mocking him. Somehow, though, it no longer seemed so ridiculous to the Detective. In fact, it suddenly, strangely, seemed very… reasonable.

"Cole," he said softly. "I think we need to talk."

Cole tilted his head thoughtfully at Vic, then nodded. "Yes, Vic." He smiled reassuringly, sensing that Vic was troubled by something. He could hardly blame him after how close he had come to death at Kellen's hands.

Vic emptied his glass and closed his eyes. "That… _story_ you told me that time… That you aren't human… That's…" He opened his eyes and looked up at Cole, who was smiling gently down at him. "That's…"

"The truth, Vic." Cole nodded gently. "Yes."


	2. Stranger Than Fiction

More Spoiler warnings: minor for "Fever of the Hunt"

****

Chapter 2 – Stranger Than Fiction

Mel had been upstairs, practicing a meditation technique that Cole had been teaching her. Deciding that she wanted a drink, she had descended to the bar level, just in time to hear Vic's question and Cole's response. She started to speak, to try to convince Vic that Cole was just teasing when she saw the blood on his pants.

"Oh, my God, Vic!" she gasped, hurrying over to him and taking one of his hands into hers, staring at him with concern. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"That's actually a very good question," Vic told her, wondering how much she knew.

"I was Tracking Kellen," Cole explained simply. "So was Vic. Vic got hurt. I Collected Kellen, and then I healed Vic."

Mel nodded. "And is Vic… okay now?" she asked cautiously, worried about how Vic might react to the revelation that Cole had just made to him.

Cole nodded, smiling benignly. "Yes, Mel. I told you, I healed him."

Mel looked from Cole to Vic, knowing that there was no point in playing games or pretending any more. Vic knew the truth, had seen it with his own eyes. She regarded him, genuinely worried about her friend, understanding how horrifying the experience must have been for him. First attacked by a Vardian, then forced to witness a Collection. Mel knew from experience that a Collection could be a horrifying sight to behold, especially the first time. She still occasionally woke in a cold sweat, recalling memories of Cole ripping Tev's life-force from his chest as she looked on.

"Are you okay, Vic?" she asked him gently, lightly touching his face.

"Yeah. Cole, um… fixed me." Vic nodded shakily.

"That's not exactly what I meant," she told him softly, squeezing his shoulder. "I… I know that all of… _this_ can take some getting used to."

Vic nodded again, raising his glass to his lips only to remember that he had already emptied it. Shaking his head, he put it down. "Yeah, Mel, you can say that again."

Mel smiled reassuringly at him. "Look, Vic, let's get you upstairs, into some clean pants. I'll wash these…" She looked down, noticing the torn fabric for the first time and shaking her head. "Or not. Um, Cole, you don't mind if Vic borrows a pair of your pants, do you?"

  
"Of course not, Mel." Cole smiled and shook his head. "With all the blood he's lost, he should probably eat as well," he suggested as Mel slid an arm around Vic's waist and steered him towards the stairs.

  
"Um, I just have… um, a few questions," Vic began softly as Mel half-led, half-supported him into the apartment. He was still light-headed, confused, and a little anxious over everything he had witnessed. He wanted to try to make sense of it all, but was not really sure where to begin. Or how.

"We'll be happy to answer all of your questions, Vic," Cole assured him, smiling and hurrying to retrieve a clean pair of pants. "They might be a little loose," he said, handing them to Vic. "But at least there's no blood on them."

Vic accepted the pants with a nod. "Thanks, Cole," he muttered absently.

"You're welcome, Vic."

"Mel, you mind if I use your shower?" Vic asked, starting towards the bathroom.

"Yeah, Vic, go ahead." She nodded and smiled at him as he vanished into the bathroom. When he had closed the door, she turned to face Cole. "We've talked about this, Cole," she pointed out quietly, shaking her head. "It is _not safe_ for people to know about you. Not even Vic."

Cole nodded slowly. "I know, Mel, but I didn't have a lot of choices. Kellen _was_ going to kill Vic." He sighed and shook his head. "He was hurt, Mel, suffering." He looked up at her, frustrated. "What else was I supposed to do _but_ heal him?"

Mel sighed and sat on the edge of the coffee-table, taking his hands in hers. "Cole, I _love_ how compassionate you are, and I am _grateful_ that you saved Vic's life. But…"

"But you worry, Mel." Cole nodded and smiled reassuringly. "It was necessary, but it is _not_ going to become a habit, I promise you." He reached for her throat, allowing his hand to linger there for only a few seconds, recalling how shy Mel was about displaying affection with other people around.

Mel smiled and nodded. "I just worry about you," she muttered, shrugging. "You probably think I worry too much, but…"

"No, no. Of course not." Cole smiled and shook his head. He lightly touched the back of two fingers to her forehead. "Melanie, Taushi, we have dealt with bigger things than this in the past, and we will again in the future. But _together_…" He shrugged, smiling at her.

Mel nodded and leaned forward, resting her forehead against his and closing her eyes. "Together, Tausha, there is _nothing_ we can not face," she whispered. 

After a few seconds, she straightened, not feeling comfortable in such an intimate pose with someone else in the house. Mel had always been a very private person where shows of affection were concerned. Cole had grown to understand this rather quickly and never pushed. He knew that, whether she showed it in public or not, Mel _did_ love him as much as he loved her. If her human sense of modesty made her uncomfortable with public shows of affection, he was more than willing to keep their intimacy private. Somehow, it made it seem that much more special, just between the two of them.

"_Nothing_." Cole nodded agreement, smiling at her spontaneous use of the Cirronian term of endearment. Taushi and Tausha were definitely two of his favorite words in the language. They translated loosely into 'my love', although a more literal translation would have been 'the other half of my soul'.

"I'm going to make a pot of coffee," Mel announced, rising.

Cole nodded. "Okay, Mel."

"What are you going to tell Vic?" she asked, walking into the kitchen.

  
"Kallissa," _the truth, _Cole said with a shrug. He rose, leaning on the counter and watching her work.

Mel smiled faintly. She _loved_ the way Cirronian sounded coming out of his mouth, more so now that, under Cole's tutelage, she was beginning to understand bits and pieces of it. "Guess it was a silly question."

Cole smiled and nodded. "Yes, Mel." After a few moments, he added, "I think I have a lead on Zarreth."

Mel grinned. "That's good. Just… don't go after her right away, okay?"

"You _do_ worry too much, Mel," he teased with a smile.

Mel sighed and shook her head. "I _mean_ it, Cole. Going after Kellen before your powers were fully regenerated could have been very dangerous. Even if I _am_ glad that it turned out the way it did… But Zarreth is dangerous and we both know it."

Cole nodded. "You're right, Mel. Of course. I'll wait a day or two, I promise."

Mel smiled, relieved. "Thank you, Tausha."

***

Vic stripped his bloodied pants off gingerly, more than a little worried over what he might find. The reality that there was no pain, that he could _use _the leg without difficulty, clashed with the reality of the dried blood on his pants. He was not sure which to believe. Until he got his first good look at his leg.

Not so much as a scar existed there to indicate that he had ever been hurt. Vic stared down at it, shocked. Dropping the lid and sitting on the toilet, he began gently prodding it, searching for _some_ sign of injury, but there was none. No break in the skin, no break in the _bone_, no pain, no bruise. _Nothing_ except for quite a bit of dried blood_._ Shaking his head, he set the bloodied pants aside and turned on the shower, wanting very badly to get rid of the blood caked on one leg.

He stepped out of the shower a few minutes later, toweling off and examining his leg for injuries again. Still nothing. Shaking his head, he changed, shrugging on the pants that Cole had provided for him and belting them tightly. He stared at his reflection in the mirror for a moment. The reflection alone confirmed the reality of the attack. He was alarmingly pale, and livid, finger-shaped bruises were starting to form where he had been choked. Whatever it had been, it had not been a dream nor an hallucination. He went to find Mel and Cole, wanting some answers.

He paused in the hallway at the sound of a hushed conversation between the two.

"Well, whatever she's after, it must be big," Mel's voice was saying from the kitchen. "I mean, I guess it goes without saying, considering that this _is_ Zarreth that we're talking about…"

"Yes," Cole's voice replied quietly. "She got her reputation as the best for a reason, Mel. _Whatever_ she's after, it _must_ be something extremely valuable."

There was a slight pause, then Mel sighed. "Yeah. More coffee?"

"Yes, please, Mel."

Vic clearly heard the sound of Mel pouring coffee into a cup, followed by silence as Cole, presumably, drank. He walked into the living-room, ready to get some answers.

Mel looked up as Vic entered. "Hey, how are you?" She walked into the living-room, followed closely by Cole. Both regarded Vic with obvious concern.

"Little confused," Vic admitted, shaking his head.

  
"Yeah, I'll bet," she said gently, taking his arm and steering him towards the couch. "You want a cup of coffee or something?" she offered as he sat. "Something to eat?"

"Uh… coffee would be great. Answers would be nice, too."

"Sure, Vic." Mel smiled and nodded. "Coffee and answers." She paused, staring at his throat, at the bruises there. "Oh, my God," she whispered, shaking her head, horrified to realize for the first time exactly how close to death Vic had come at Kellen's hands. "Cole, look at that…"

Cole looked at Vic's throat, frowning. "I'm sorry, Vic. I didn't see those earlier." Kneeling in front of the Detective, he reached towards Vic's throat, frowning when he leaned away. "Is something wrong, Vic?" he asked gently.

"Uh…" Vic considered the question for a moment. Cole had saved his life, so why was he scared to let him get close? Just because he had so recently been strangled that his throat was still tender? Was it the memories of having someone Gregory James' hands on his throat? Or because he did not really trust Cole? Oddly enough, he found himself _wanting _to trust Cole. At least in this regard. Whatever else might have been true of Cole, he was _not_ a threat to Vic. "My throat's just… a little tender right now."

"Don't worry, Vic," Mel said over her shoulder as she started into the kitchen. "By the time Cole's through with it, it's going to feel _great_."

"Uh, yeah. Right." Vic nodded slowly, nervous. When Cole reached out and wrapped his hands loosely around his throat, Vic closed his eyes, overwhelmed by memories of Gregory James choking the life out of him.

"Don't be afraid, Vic. You don't have to be afraid," Cole whispered gently, healing the bruised flesh, soothing away the pain. Then, with a hand against Vic's forehead, he calmed the Detective's anxiety for good measure.

Vic stared at Cole with quiet wonder, in awe. In the alley he had been in too much pain, and too afraid for his life, to take much note of the process. Now he had the luxury of examining it more closely. It left him completely free of pain, feeling calm and warm all over and, when Cole touched one hand lightly to his forehead, completely serene and at peace. The heat that accompanied the healing, spreading from his throat to the rest of his body, was pleasant beyond words, the equivalent of a really well-executed deep-muscle massage. The sense of calm and serenity was as strong as that he had felt the last time he had been shot, after the EMTs had given him both painkillers and tranquilizers in large quantity. The difference was that his mind remained sharp and clear this time, not clouded by drugs.

"Thank you," he whispered, aware that Cole had, somehow, given him far more than relief from his pain. Nearly dying at the hands of Gregory James less than two hours ago seemed like a distant memory, and a not particularly consequential one at that.

Remaining on his knees for a few more moments, Cole smiled gently at Vic and nodded. He touched the man's forehead in an almost paternal gesture. "You have questions now?" he asked softly, moving to the couch.

Mel watched from the kitchen, aware that something more than the healing had passed between the two and reluctant to disturb them. She had always hoped that the two would eventually become friends, or at least allies, and now it looked as though they would. Killing time, she put three cups of coffee on a tray, along with a plate of cookies.

"_Lots_ of questions," Vic agreed, nodding.

Mel entered the living-room then, sensing that the moment was over. "Here we are. Black for Vic," she said handing him a cup. "Extra-sweet for Cole," she added, handing him his cup before sitting down with her own, cream and two sugars.

"Thank you, Mel." Cole smiled at her.

"Thanks, Mel," Vic said, nodding.

"Here, have some cookies," Mel offered, pushing the plate towards the two men. When Cole had picked up a rice-crispy square and Vic had helped himself to an oatmeal cookie, she smiled faintly. Coffee and cookies. Such a normal accompaniment to a conversation that, to an outside observer, would have seemed almost surreal. "So, Vic, I guess you have some questions?" she prompted gently.

"Understatement of the year, Mel." Vic smiled at her and began at the beginning. "How… how long have you known about all of this?"

"Since the beginning. I've been helping Cole out since the beginning. He… he needed a lot of help at first, you know. Couldn't talk, couldn't read, didn't know any of our customs…"

Vic nodded. "So, that's why he's been living here?" he asked, feeling suddenly foolish over the jealousy he had always displayed towards Cole.

Mel smiled faintly. "Yeah, Vic. He needed a safe base of operations. I… I couldn't turn him away. Not once I knew." She gave a faint shake of her head and a helpless shrug.

Vic shrugged. "Yeah, I, uh… guess that makes sense." He looked from Mel to Cole. "So… Um, what happened today… Um… why were you there, Cole? What… what was up with Gregory James? Was he an alien, too?"

Cole nodded. "Yes, Vic. A Vardian named Kellen. He… took over the body of Gregory James a few months ago."

"I thought your aliens came here last year," Vic said softly, frowning in confusion. He could have sworn when he had first confronted Cole that he had mentioned something about the aliens arriving last year.

Cole closed his eyes, waiting a few moments before looking back up at Vic and speaking. "They did, Vic." Quietly, he detailed how he had captured them all, only to find that they had once more escaped. He could not entirely keep the regret from his voice as he explained to Vic how he had hoped to never again be called upon to perform his duties as a Tracker.

Vic could understand Cole's regret. He was a veteran cop who had hoped for a peaceful retirement only to find that this was not to be the case. Vic had seen that before. Like most cops, whether they realized it or not, law enforcement was more than a job for Cole. It was, whether he realized it or not, _who he was_. It was in his blood now, and as much as he might have hoped to escape that, he never would. Even if his alien convicts had _not_ escaped again, Vic knew, he would not have been content in civilian life for long.

"How many of these guys are we talking about here?" he asked, reluctant to qualify them as aliens.

"Several hundred, Vic," Cole told him, sighing deeply. "Even more this time than the original 218."

"Tell me about them?" Vic requested. "So I can get an idea what we're up against here."

Mel smiled faintly at Vic's use of the word 'we'. It meant a lot to her that Vic was so readily accepting of Cole as a fellow cop. Whether they would ever become _friends_ or not remained an open issue, but Vic was accepting Cole as a colleague, a fellow cop and, therefore, a man to be aided as far as possible. It reassured her that Vic could look past the fact that they were talking about _aliens_ and see that the cop versus criminal model still applied.

Quietly and without much drama, Cole gave Vic a brief overview of the initial prison-break, Zin's role in it, his own negligence in trusting Zin. He selected what he thought was a representative sample of the fugitives to give Vic some idea of the diversity of the group.

He did not mention Rhee, preferring to start with the Enixian Kaden and his indiscriminate distribution of the drug Fek-Maln to humans as well as aliens, with often-fatal results to human users. Vic nodded. He was familiar with the drug because he had assisted with the case. They never had been able to isolate the source of the bizarre substance, and it had vanished from circulation as quickly as it had appeared, leaving no one the wiser. 

As Cole spoke of the Dessarian who had enjoyed mimicking the crimes of famous serial killers, Vic was again struck by the fact that he had worked the case. He found himself wondering exactly how many cold cases Cole could provide insight into. As Cole continued describing killers, drug-runners, and organized-crime figures within Zin's organization, Vic realized that the answer was quite a few. He shook his head, awed by the information that Cole was so casually revealing as Mel looked on, occasionally nodding in agreement or confirmation, but not otherwise reacting. Clearly, she was used to all of this.

"Sounds like you're up against some pretty evil characters here," Vic said finally. "Scum of the universe, basically."

Cole nodded slowly. "Many of them are, yes, Vic." But he felt compelled to add, "But not all. Like human criminals, some were just… men and women who have made mistakes." He sighed deeply, pausing for a moment before continuing. "A man named Kres, a Nodulian, was captured by your government. When I went to retrieve him, I was captured as well. Kres managed to escape. I was close to death. He could have fled and left me there, but he came back for me, saved my life, Vic." Cole closed his eyes and rose, walking into the kitchen.

Vic stared after him, startled. "Is he okay?" he whispered to Mel.

  
She shook her head and whispered her reply. "They _tortured_ Kres, Vic. Cole, too, I think. He… he doesn't talk about it, but I _think_ that Kres was hurt saving Cole…"

"They shot him," Cole said quietly from the kitchen, his back to them. "His body was dying. I _had_ to Collect his life-force or he would have died too…" He sighed deeply and repeated, "They _shot_ him. They _tortured_ him and then they shot him…"

"Cole," Mel whispered, rising and walking into the kitchen. "Are you okay?"

Cole nodded slowly. "Yeah, Mel." He absently touched her throat before walking into the living-room where Vic sat, staring. "He was a smuggler," he told Vic. "And he saved my life."

Vic nodded slowly, not sure what to say. It was not _just_ that the man had saved Cole's life and Cole had still been forced to imprison him again. He had been tortured. They both had. By a government that Vic represented. 

Finally, Vic said the only thing he could. "He was a good man, Cole."

Cole nodded in agreement. "When I returned him to Sar-Top, I told the Review Board of his actions in saving me. His sentence was shortened substantially." His frown faded. "He was not among those who escaped the second time." 

Vic nodded. "It's good to know that they aren't _all_ evil."

Cole paused for a moment. "They may not all be _evil_, Vic, but this second batch is different. They're more hardened, career criminals. More men like Kellen, fewer like Kres."

Vic nodded and opened his mouth to question Cole further when his cell-phone rang. He closed his eyes and cursed softly. In all the confusion and excitement, he had totally forgotten about Maria and, to a large extent, the body of Gregory James. There was going to be some serious hell to pay. He quickly retrieved his phone.

"Yeah?" he asked in a shaky voice.

"Vicky, I hate to seem nosy, but where the hell are you?" Maria's voice demanded.

"Um, long story…"

"'Long story'?" she repeated, incredulous. "Vicky, they've been looking for you _everywhere_! Talk to me…"

"Um, have they found James yet?"

"No. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"Um… Kind of. He… knocked me around pretty good." At least he did not have to lie to her.

"Okay… Are you at a hospital?"

"Um, not exactly…"

Her exasperated sigh could be clearly heard, even over the phone. "Well, then, get your ass to one."

"Where are you?"

With another sigh, she told him which hospital _she_ was being treated. He winced. He had forgotten that James, _Kellen_, had hurt her as well.

"Okay, Mar. Hang in there. I'll be there in half an hour." Sighing, Vic hung up. "Damn…"

Mel looked up, concerned. "Problem?" she guessed, realizing what kind of position he probably found himself in. "Drive you somewhere?" she offered.

He nodded, grateful. "Yeah. Maria Cruz is at the hospital. Kellen knocked her into a wall."

Mel nodded and rose quickly, retrieving her car-keys. "Is she okay?" she asked anxiously.

"She sounded pissed, which means that she can't be in _too_ bad shape." Vic grinned and rose, wincing.

"Are you still hurt?" Cole asked, rising and extending his hands.

"Nothing serious," Vic assured him, shaking his head and declining the unspoken offer of aid. 

Now that the adrenaline and endorphins had largely worn off, he was in rather a lot of pain, but he doubted that it was serious. He was, no doubt, black and blue all over, but pragmatically, he knew it would probably be wise to have at least _some_ marks on his body to prove that he had been beaten to a pulp. It was, after all, the only reasonable excuse he could make for having gone AWOL. 

  
As Mel drove him, he quickly crafted what he considered a reasonable cover-story. It even had the advantage of being mostly true. He had pursued Gregory James, been beaten to a _pulp_, and woken up to the sound of his cell-phone ringing. As the excitement wore off and the pain increased, the story became more believable. By the time they arrived at the Emergency Room, Vic had to lean on Mel in order to be able to make it inside.


	3. Brothers in Blue

More Spoilers: these for the Pilot ep…

Chapter 3 – Brothers in Blue

Vic was grateful for Mel's help in walking from the car to the admission's desk. His throat, healed by Cole, was probably the only part of his body _not_ bruised. At least, it felt that way as he limped in, leaning heavily on Mel. A nurse took one look at him and immediately called for a wheel-chair. Equally anxious about Vic's physical and mental well-being, Mel followed close behind as they wheeled him into a curtained-off area.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked quietly after they had been left alone to wait for the doctor.

"I will be." Vic nodded. "Sore, but I'll survive."

"No, I mean…" Mel shrugged.

"Oh, _that_." Vic sighed deeply. "You've really known all this for more than a year?" he asked. "How do you--" He stopped in mid-sentence as the curtain was pulled back and Maria walked in.

"My God!" she gasped, walking over to him. He looked like death warmed over, only slightly worse. 

Vic smiled weakly at her, relieved to see that, except for a few stitches over her left eye, she looked pretty good. "You okay?"

"Concussion. You?"

"Doc hasn't seen me yet."  


Maria nodded. "Hi, Melanie," she greeted her. "You drive him?"  


"Yeah." Mel nodded. 

"Thank you so much." Maria smiled gratefully at the woman. She wondered how Vic's ex had come to be the one to bring him to the hospital, but she was grateful all the same.

Mel nodded slowly. Her cell-phone rang and she had it to her ear in an instant. "Yeah, Cole?" She listened for a few moments, a frown marring her expression. "Oh, that's just _wonderful_." The last was clearly sarcastic. "No, Cole. I don't know. Yeah. Yes… _No_. Look, just… _wait_ for me, okay? _Thank you_. Okay. No, just stay put. Damn it, Cole, you _promised._ Okay. Yeah, Cole. Me, too." Mel sighed and hung up the phone, shaking her head.

"Everything okay?" Vic asked uncertainly.

Mel smiled reassuringly, shrugging. "You going to be okay here, Vic? I kind of need to go keep Cole from doing something stupid…"

Vic nodded. "Yeah, Mel. Go ahead."

She frowned apologetically. "I'm really sorry, Vic."

"Hey, it's cool."

She sighed and nodded. "Look, Vic. You come by tonight if you want to… talk or anything. Okay?"

"Will do, Mel." Vic grinned and nodded.

As Mel left, Maria looked at Vic again, shaking her head. He was so _pale._ "Not bad for a feather-weight like Gregory James, huh?" she asked lightly. As bad as he looked, it was clear to her that he was going to be okay, and that was a relief.

"Proof positive that you should never judge a book by its cover," Vic agreed wryly.

"You two on again?" Maria asked, jerking her head in the direction that Mel had departed. 

"Yeah, I wish," Vic muttered, shaking his head.

"Because it kind of strikes me as odd that you get hurt and she's the one bringing you in…"

"Long story."

"I'll bet." Maria raised an eyebrow, curious. As much as she would have liked to have heard the whole story, though, she knew that Vic was _not_ likely to be forthcoming about it. If he had been in an expansive mood, she would already have _known_ the whole story.

Taking in his appearance, she shook her head. It was not lost on her that, among other things, Vic was not wearing the same pants as he had been that morning. In fact, the pants he _was_ wearing were not even his. They were at least two sizes too large. And there was blood on one of his shoes. She had smelled the scotch on his breath, too, even over the coffee that he had had since. Which at least explained Mel's involvement. It was odd that he had decided to go for a drink _before_ reporting back in, but Maria was willing to reserve judgment.

"Trust me, you _really_ don't want to know," Vic told her, knowing that curious expression when he saw it.

Maria shrugged, accepting that this was probably the case. She decided to change the subject. "Cole? That her new guy?"

"Not exactly." Vic shook his head. "He's a boarder. She… keeps him out of trouble."

"Those his pants?"

Vic winced at the observation but made no move to deny it. Maria was an observant woman and it _was_ fairly obvious that they were not his pants. As long as the questions did not get any deeper, he was fine.

"I _really_ don't want to know, do I, Vicky?" she asked with a grin, amused and wondering exactly how Vic had been taking his mind off the attack by James. 

He vanished for almost an hour only to reappear smelling of scotch and wearing another man's pants. If she had not known him better, she would have worried. As it was, she was mostly just amused by his obvious discomfort with the topic. Still, the blood on his shoe made her wonder, especially since he had no visible injuries. Did his own pants, perhaps, have some blood on them as well?

Her reflections were interrupted as the doctor walked in. "Detective Bruno," he greeted Vic. "Says here you got into a bit of a scuffle with a suspect?" he asked, indicating a chart.

Vic nodded. "Yeah."

"What hurts?" the doctor asked.

"What doesn't?" Vic replied, shaking his head. "My back is _killing_ me."

"Let's get your shirt off…"

Maria turned to leave, then changed her mind. Vic might not _like_ it, but he would not protest too strongly either. It was in his nature not to want to make too big a deal out of things. It was, in her opinion, a crime to keep a chest like that hidden behind a button-down shirt all day, and for all her professionalism, she was not above copping a quick look-see when the opportunity presented itself. After all, he was single now, by his own admission and, thus, fair game. _Ah, the possibilities…_

Vic stared, startled when she decided to stay. _What the hell?_ his mind demanded as she leaned casually against the wall. She may have been his partner and therefore entitled to stay, but she was also a _chick_. He rubbed his mouth, wondering how to proceed. Asking her to leave was as good as pointing out that he was shy around her. Which was not something he had ever thought about before. She was his _partner_, why was he suddenly shy around her? He glanced at her again. Ah, right. She was also quite a beautiful woman. How had that one managed to elude him for so long? Mel, right. Well, beautiful or not, Maria was making no move to leave and Vic was not about to press the issue. She was probably just being a mother-hen, anyway.

With a shrug, he started to pull off his shirt. Maria winced as he gingerly removed his shirt, revealing a patchwork of bruises on his chest and stomach. From the look on the doctor's face as he circled around Vic, his back was as bad, if not worse. Suddenly less interested in his physique than in his health, Maria walked around the bed for a look of her own, wincing.

"My God, Vicky! What'd this guy do to you?" she demanded, staring at the livid, black areas on his shoulders and lower back.

"Threw me 20 feet into a brick wall," Vic replied honestly. "Told you, Mar, he knocked me around pretty good."

"I should say so." She nodded, incredulous and amazed that he had managed to make it as far as the Watchfire without assistance. Man must have needed a drink in a _very_ bad way. Without thinking, she reached out to touch one of the bruises, confirming the reality of the brutal attack to herself.

"Ow!" he protested, leaning away. "Come on, Mar…"

She winced in sympathy, dropping her hand. "Sorry… That must… you must… _wow_…" She shook her head, horrified. The obvious brutality of the attack to which her friend had been subjected left the hardened homicide Detective sick to her stomach. And here she had been trying to ogle the poor guy! She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, suddenly needing a drink in a very bad way herself. 

***

Declining Maria's offer of a ride home after he was released from the hospital, Vic took a cab to the Watchfire, curious and wanting more answers. The bar was already getting crowded, but Cole and Mel were nowhere in sight. One of the bartenders waved cheerfully at Vic as he walked into the bar, looking around for them.

"Evening, Detective. Miss Porter's upstairs."

"Thanks, Bridgett." He nodded and turned to leave.

"Hey, you feeling okay? You don't look so good."  


"Oh, had a little scuffle with a suspect this afternoon. No big deal." He forced a smile, then turned and made his way across the bar before she could question him further. 

Vic could hear Mel and Cole arguing as he ascended the stairs. That in itself was unusual. Mel seldom raised her voice and he had _never_ heard Cole raise his. He paused, unsure how to proceed.

"Cole, you _promised_!" Mel said in a voice that suggested that she had probably already repeated the phrase at least 20 times already.

"Mel, this is important," Cole replied reasonably.

"Cole, she is _dangerous_. You can _not_ go after her until you are back up to full strength." 

"Taushi…"

"No!" Mel's voice was firm as she cut him off. "Cole, Zarreth nearly killed you the first time you went up against her, and you were at full strength then. In the past twenty-four hours, you have used hyper-speed, you have fought _two_ fugitives, you have healed yourself once, Vic _twice_, you have--"

"I _know_, Mel," Cole replied firmly, cutting _her_ off. "I _am_ weakened right now. I know that. But you told me yourself that this… smallpox is dangerous to humans and--"

"And _you_ told _me_ that she's not going to be in a position to try for it for another 48 hours at least!"

Vic could not help but wonder if they had been arguing like this since Mel had left him at the hospital. From their aggravated tones, he was willing to bet they had. He was _very_ curious, wondering what one of Cole's fugitives wanted with a virus.

"Guys?" he called, not wanting to catch them unaware or seem to be eavesdropping. 

Cole appeared quickly, opening the apartment door and gently catching Vic's arm, helping him up the rest of the stairs.

"What's wrong with your eyes, Vic?" he asked without preamble.

Vic blinked, startled. "Um, painkillers." He shook his head. "Not important. What's going on? I heard you two arguing."

"Cole wants to go after Zarreth _now_," Mel explained, shaking her head in disgust as she steered Vic towards the couch. "Like you, he's got this delusion that he's completely invulnerable…"

"She's worried," Cole explained quietly to Vic, shrugging.

Vic nodded slowly. "Um, who's Zarreth?" he asked, deciding that this was as good a place to start as any.

"She's a thief, Vic, a Dessarian," Cole explained, not thinking to further explain. 

"She's after this military shipment of smallpox," Mel added, shaking her head and sitting down next to Vic, exhausted from hours of trying to argue some sense into Cole. "It's a funny strain, incredibly resilient, not like anything we can defend against now…"

"Um, what is the military doing with smallpox?" Vic asked uncertainly. As far as he had known, there were only two or three samples of the disease left in the world, and they were controlled by organizations like the CDC.

"They're trying to produce a new vaccination against the virus," Cole explained. "As Mel said, this strain is not like any other… that leaves your species very vulnerable to it..."

Mel sighed. "The government is afraid that some terrorist cell is going to get their hands on a sample of smallpox and…" She shook her head.

Vic nodded slowly. Biological warfare had been in the news a lot lately, new weapons in the new war. "What's this… Zarreth want with it? To give it to Zin?"

Cole considered for a few moments before answering. "Probably. I can't really see Zin having much use for it himself, but he would be more than willing to sell it to the highest bidder."

Vic stared, shocked. "Doesn't he realize how _dangerous_ that could be? The consequences?"

Cole shrugged. "He's a smart man, Vic. I'm sure that he would have his own people vaccinated first."

"And just… throw the human race to the wolves?" Vic shook his head, disgusted.

Cole nodded. Zin would not have hesitated to do something like that. Humans were nothing more than pawns to him, assuming they even held that much value for him.

"And Cole wants go after her _now_. Even though he's weak and vulnerable…" She shook her head, angry and worried.

Vic frowned uncertainly and glanced at Cole. "Are you?"

Cole nodded unabashedly. "Yes, Vic."

Vic glanced from Cole to Mel, who looked worried beyond words. "Then you should wait to go after this… Zarreth woman." He paused, but quickly went on when it looked like Cole was going to protest. "Cole, this is _years _as a cop talking. You said you've got 48 hours? Two days? _Wait_. You tip your hand on this early, and you risk Zin bringing in someone else to finish the job."

Cole considered this rationale for a minute before nodding gravely. "I think you're right, Vic."

"Thank you, Vic," Mel whispered, relieved, if somewhat annoyed that it had taken Vic about ten seconds to talk Cole out of something that she had been trying to talk him out of for hours. She rose. "Look, guys, I'm sure it's getting pretty hectic down there without me…"

Cole nodded, smiling. "Yes, Mel."

She smiled faintly and turned towards the stairwell. "So why don't you two… talk shop or… whatever. And, Vic, if you need anything, you know where to find me."

Vic nodded and rose himself. "Actually, let's all go downstairs. I could kind of use a drink," he said, knowing that Mel seldom kept alcohol in the apartment. Living over a bar, she did not really _need_ to.

  
Cole nodded. "We can talk as easily downstairs, Vic, if there was something you still wanted to know."

"Sounds good," Vic agreed, and the three retired down the stairs.

The bar _was _getting fairly crowded, but Mel declined Cole's offer of help, shooing him and Vic into a corner to talk. She carried Vic a drink and reminded herself to keep a close eye on her friend, who was, after all, going through a lot. 

"So, you were, like, a prison guard?" Vic asked as he sipped his drink.

Cole nodded and absently turned his coffee-cup around in his hands. "Yes, Vic, for several years." He stared somberly into the mug, falling silent.

Vic was a little startled by Cole's abrupt shift in mood. "Not great years, I'm guessing?" he ventured quietly.

Cole shook his head. "I hated Sar-Top. I wanted to die." He shrugged. 

Vic blinked, amazed by the casual revelation. "If it was that bad, why did you stay?"

"Rhee was there." Cole looked up at him, thinking for a moment before speaking. "Rhee killed Nallia and Ashi. I _had_ to keep him there, to keep others from suffering that. It was the only thing that kept me going for a long time."

"Nallia and Ashi?" Vic asked slowly, surprised by the quiet pain in Cole's voice as he spoke the names.

"My wife and daughter, Vic. Rhee killed them. It's when I stopped being a Tracker, a cop, and started being a guard."

Vic swallowed hard, staggered. Cole had been married, had a _child_, and that had been taken from him in the worst way imaginable. Even though he knew the picture to be an unrealistic one, he could easily imagine Cole, a little younger, with a beautiful young wife and a perfect little daughter. In his mind, all three were humans, his wife and daughter like characters out of some feel-good made-for-TV movie. He could easily picture the three laughing and playing together in one of Chicago's many parks, a golden-retriever running and barking nearby. Unrealistic the image may have been, but it was compelling all the same. Whatever the participants had looked like, there could be no doubt from the look on Cole's face now that they had loved each other dearly. And that had been torn away from him in one brutal moment in time. It was, as always, painful for Vic to consider.

"God, man, I'm… sorry," he whispered.

Cole looked up at him, nodding faintly, pain clearly written on his gentle face in spite of his efforts to control it. Mel was there then, on the pretext of refilling his coffee. She had been covertly watching the conversation, worried about Vic, when it had become obvious that the topic had turned to Cole's family.

"You okay?" she asked gently, setting the coffeepot down and watching him with concern.

Cole nodded quickly, not wanting to trouble her. She worried about him so much… He managed a smile that had nothing to do with how he felt. "I'm fine, Mel," he assured her, nodding. When she had reluctantly left, Cole looked at Vic. "How many humans can this virus kill?"

"Um… hundreds of thousands," Vic said after a moment's thought.

"Indiscriminately? Women? Children?"

"Yeah," Vic said slowly, wondering what was going through the other cop's mind.

Cole inhaled deeply. The virus was like Rhee, killing indiscriminately, tearing families apart. But unlike Rhee, once loose, it would _not_ be possible to contain it. "Zarreth can not be allowed to have it, Vic."

Vic nodded. "I agree, Cole. So how do we stop her?"

"We?" Cole shook his head. "Not your fight, Vic."

"Wanna bet?" Vic shook his head. "Cole, you're talking about a disease that could decimate my species. Don't tell me that this isn't my fight."

"Zarreth is not a human criminal, Vic. She's _my_ problem."

"You really want to get into a jurisdictional spat with me over this woman, Cole?" Vic asked gently, crossing his arms over his chest. "'Cause, last time I checked, Chicago was _my_ turf."

Cole closed his eyes, faintly irritated by the human's stubbornness. He was worse than Mel. "Zarreth is a dangerous woman, Vic. She would not hesitate to kill you if you stood in her way," he reasoned gently.

Vic sighed and shook his head. It was all well and good that Cole was trying to protect him, but Vic was not a child, and he did _not_ like being treated like one. "I'm a cop, Cole. I catch the bad guys. It's what I do. It's what we _both_ do, man." That knowledge made him that much more eager to help Cole. They were, after all, brothers in blue, fellow cops, and cops had to stick together.

Cole sighed deeply. "Vic, do you really understand what Zarreth is capable of? Can you? She is not _just_ a thief. For twenty years, no one knew who she was because she never left a single witness… She takes life as freely as she takes property."

Vic nodded his understanding. "Risk I'm willing to take, considering the stakes."

Cole closed his eyes again, considering. Vic was right. This battle was as much his as it was Cole's. _More_ so, even. _Vic's_ species would be the one to suffer if Zarreth were allowed to take what she was after. Mel's friend was a brave man, a good cop. With time and training, he could prove a valuable ally. He suspected that the thought might please Mel as well. Opening his eyes, he regarded Vic thoughtfully for a moment. The human's resolve to help was obvious. Like all cops, regardless of species, he had an inherent sense of right and wrong and an inability to stand by and do nothing while evil occurred nearby. He was not about to back down. Cole nodded firmly, rising.

"Come with me, Vic. I'll give you a copy of Zarreth's dossier." 

As he crossed the bar with Vic, he was aware that Mel was smiling smugly in their direction. He shook his head and opened the door, ignoring her. If he had not known better, he would have assumed a human conspiracy. Smiling to himself at the amusing thought, he led Vic into the war-room and offered him a seat.

"So, what's all this stuff actually do?" Vic asked as Cole sat in front of the main screen and began typing quickly. He glanced around, curious. The room was a chaotic-jumble of MacGyvered-together equipment. Toasters, microwave ovens, other items modified beyond recognition. They must have formed _some_ kind of coherent whole, but Vic could not really tell what anything did, or even how most of it was connected to the mainframe. Whichever one _that_ was.

"Different things," Cole told him absently. He nodded towards a screen with a map on it that Vic was regarding curiously. "That one is linked to a… spy-satellite. The blue dots represent fugitives."

Vic blinked at the screen. Cole had not been kidding. There were _hundreds_ of them, all over the world. Cole was in over his head.

"Here is Zarreth's file," Cole told him, direction his attention to the main screen. "It will take the computer a few moments to translate it into English."

"Is that… your language?" Vic asked, pointing to the glyphs that filled the screen.

"Yes, Vic. Cirronian." Cole nodded.

"What's it say?" Vic asked, curious.

Cole pointed as he spoke. "Zarreth, Dessarian female. Grand theft, grand theft, capital murder, grand theft, misappropriation of a national treasure, grand theft, capital murder, misappropriation--"

"Um, think I get the point." Vic smiled. It was striking how similar this dossier was to a thousand other rap-sheets he had seen in the past. Seemed like no matter where you went, criminals were all the same. "How many counts?"

"Thirty-six that they were ultimately able to prove. 18 of grand theft, 10 of capital murder, eight counts on various other criminal activities including conspiracy and kidnapping."

"Jeez!" Vic shook his head. "Kidnapping?"  


Cole nodded. "Just another form of theft in her mind."

"That is messed up."  


Cole nodded in agreement. "The ransom _was_ substantial, but she should have stuck to what she was good at."

Vic grinned. "That how she got caught? Got greedy?"

"Yes, Vic." He nodded. "She decided that she could make more money by ransoming the son of Dessaria's Prime Minister."

Vic shook his head. "They never learn."

Cole smiled and nodded. "Which is just as well for those of us in law-enforcement."

Vic grinned again, nodding. "Guess it's pretty much the same on any planet."

Cole nodded mildly. "Usually, yes." He printed off the first few pages of Zarreth's dossier before loading the rest.

"Is that what she _looks_ like?" Vic asked, staring at the screen. "Whoa!"

Cole smiled, bemused by the reaction. In spite of the fact that they were not _exactly_ mammalian, Dessarians were, really, more similar in outward appearance to humans than _any_ of the Migar species. 

He nodded slowly, stifling his smile. "Yes, Vic. That is what Zarreth actually looks like. She's quite attractive by Dessarian standards."

Vic looked at Cole slowly, aware that he was amused. "Do _you_ find her attractive?" he asked, grinning.

"Yes, Vic. Her outward appearance is… appealing." Cole nodded.

  
"Doesn't it bother you that she has no hair?" To say nothing of the fact that she seemed to have _scales_. Or possibly a very nasty skin-condition…

Cole chuckled softly and answered in a roundabout way. "When I first arrived on Earth, Vic, I was _appalled_ by the amount of fur that your species has." He smiled more widely. "Especially when _I_ started sprouting it, too."

Vic laughed, shaking his head. "Cirronians don't have… fur?"

Cole shook his head, grinning at Vic's intentional choice of the word 'fur', echoing Cole's statement. Smiling, he pulled up his own personnel file. "_This_ is a Cirronian," he announced, pointing to his own picture.

Vic was obscurely reminded of the movie Cocoon. Except that this creature was more stunning, more beautiful. It was perfect, beautiful, compelling. "What's it say?" he asked, nodding towards the text on the screen, wondering what crime such a beautiful, perfect creature could have committed.

"Daggon, guard, Sar-Top prison satellite, four seasons and pending. Tracker corps, Enix field office, three seasons. Tracker corps, Cirron field office, two seasons. Tracker corps, intern, Migar Security Council main office, one season… and before that information on my teaching career…"

"That's _you_?" Vic asked, startled. He looked from the large, muscular man before him to the slight, willowy creature on the screen. He had automatically assumed that it was a female. It was just so… _beautiful_. In fact, it was _gorgeous_, actually, disturbingly, _attractive_ to the human Detective.

Cole smiled and nodded, amused. "Yes, Vic, it is. Mel was surprised as well."

"I'll bet. I mean… _jeez_!" Vic shook his head. He took another look at the picture on the screen, still uncomfortably attractive to him, and shook his head. "Um… what do your, um, your… _women_ look like?"  


Cole smiled. "The same, Vic. Non-Cirronians can seldom tell the difference." His smile widened as he sensed the human's discomfort. He turned off the screen. "Don't worry, Vic. I won't tell anyone that you think I'm… _hot_," he told the human with a smile. He regretted the promise a little, knowing that Mel would have been very much amused by the story, but doubting that Vic would want it to reach her ears.

"Hey! I _never_ said…"

"Humans have very powerful pheromones, Vic," Cole said gently. "It was… fairly obvious…"

Vic flushed and shook his head, embarrassed, but also amused. A lot of men would have been ticked off, but he was not such a man. And it _was_ kind of funny. "Um, damn… I could… use another drink."

"Scotch?" Cole asked, rising.

"Big one," Vic called after him, picking up the file that Cole had printed off. He laughed to himself, shaking his head, as he read over it.

Laughing and shaking his head, Cole descended from the apartment and walked over to the bar. "Mel, can I have a large scotch?" he asked once he reached it.

"You don't drink," she pointed out, smiling curiously at him. He had a strange smile on his face.

"It's for Vic. He… was a little… um, _surprised_ by the… outward appearances of some of the guards and prisoners at Sar-Top." He bit his lower lip to keep from smiling, a habit he had picked up from Mel quite recently.

"This story I've _got_ to hear," Mel told him with a grin, knowing that there was a lot more going on upstairs than Cole was letting on. She handed him a tall glass of Vic's favorite brand of scotch without ice as Vic preferred. 

"Perhaps Vic can tell you about it," Cole suggested mildly, turning away.

"Cole!" Mel protested, laughing. "Come on. Tell me!"

"Perhaps Vic can tell you about it," he repeated with an enigmatic smile.

"Oh, great. My boyfriend and my ex-boyfriend are engaging in intergalactic locker-room talk upstairs…" Mel laughed and shook her head. "On second though, maybe I _don't_ want to know."

"Yes, Mel." Cole smiled and nodded, then turned and left.

Bridgett, one of the bartenders, glanced at Mel as Cole left. "Um, Mel, not to be nosy or anything, but I could have _sworn_ that I just heard you say something about… intergalactic locker-room talk?"

"Intergalactic locker-room talk?" Mel repeated in a curious tone. She had learned long ago that, when overheard saying something that she should not have, the best thing to do was often to feign total ignorance. "No, I think you must have misheard." She smiled and shook her head. "It _is_ kind of noisy in here tonight."

"Sure is." Bridgett nodded in agreement, then hurried off to deliver a tray of beers to a corner table, shaking her head and laughing at herself. Whatever Miss Porter had said, it had obviously _not_ been what she had heard. Her mother had always said that the hearing was the first thing to go, but that bad hearing made life interesting. Obviously this was a prime example of the phenomenon. 

Vic was still reading over the dossier when Cole returned with his drink. It was amazing the number of crimes that this woman had committed over the years. And Cole had been right. She took life with the same casualness with which she took property.

"Ah, thanks, Cole." Vic nodded gratefully as he accepted the drink from Cole. "This Zarreth chick has definitely been around the block a few times."  
  
Cole nodded absently. "Yes, Vic." He paused for a moment. "Vic, what is 'locker-room talk'?"

Vic frowned, confused by the question, seemingly apropos of nothing. "Um, why do you ask?"

"Mel thinks that we are having… intergalactic locker-room talk up here. What does it mean, Vic?"

Vic sniggered and shook his head. "Locker-room talk, it's, um… you know… _guy_ talk."

"Guy talk?" Cole repeated, shaking his head. "I don't understand, Vic. How is this 'guy talk' different from any other form of communication?"

Vic stared at him for a moment before it sunk in that Cole was not kidding. "Um, when women talk about 'guy talk', or 'locker-room talk' it's… not a polite term. Usually it means that guys are talking about sex."

Cole tilted his head quizzically at Vic. "Sex?" he repeated.

"Yeah. You… do know what that is?" Vic asked, frowning.

Cole nodded. "Yes, Vic, of course. I _did_ have a wife and daughter."

"Right." Vic nodded, embarrassed. 

"I just… am not sure I see much point in _talking_ about it. Why do human men engage in this 'locker-room' talk?"

Vic stared at Cole with wide eyes. It took him a few minutes to realize that he was serious. "Um, you know… brag about the big score…"

Cole's frown deepened. "Scoring is for sports…"

"Or sex. Sports or sex," Vic explained.

"Why?"

"Um…" Vic's face was growing more red than it had when he had realized that the _babe_ on the screen had been Cole. "It's like… an achievement… Sleeping with… a beautiful woman," he explained uneasily.

"Oh…." Cole nodded absently, returning his attention to Zarreth's dossier. It was easier for him to read it directly off the computer, in Cirronian, while Vic leafed thorough the translated printout.

"Looks like she always works alone?" Vic asked, glad to be able to change the subject.

Cole nodded. "It allows her to keep a lower profile. It's part of the reason that it took us so long to apprehend her. And, the lack of accomplices made framing charges against her somewhat more difficult."  


Vic nodded his understanding. Accomplices were useful to Prosecutors if they could be encouraged to turn State's evidence. 

They reviewed the dossier together for several hours, the silence only broken by Vic's occasionally questions and Cole's explanations. Finally, Vic yawned, causing Cole to glance at his clock.

"You should go home and rest, Vic. It's very late." Belatedly, he remembered that the Detective had also been taking pain medication. And drinking. "Yes, you need to rest now. I'll drive you home."

Vic nodded reluctantly. "Guess so. Can I drop by tomorrow? We can discuss this more?"

Cole nodded. "Of course, Vic."

"Okay. Vic nodded and rose. "What time should I stop by tomorrow?" He frowned as he realized that he would need to take a cab to the Station and pick up his car first.

"Any time is fine."

"How early in the morning? I don't want to wake you up, especially if you're going to be working late."  


"I don't sleep, Vic," Cole explained gently.

"Um, okay…" Vic nodded, surprised, but not as surprised as he had been by some of the day's _other_ revelations. "I'll drop by around ten, then. How's that sound?"

"That's fine, Vic." Cole smiled and rose, walking downstairs with him.

"Hey, guys." Mel smiled at them as they passed. "Make any progress?"  


"I was showing Vic Zarreth's dossier, Mel, but he needs to rest now. I'm going to drive him home now and we're going to talk more in the morning."

Mel nodded. "That's fine. See you then, Vic."

He nodded. "Night, Mel."

"Night, Vic. Call if you need anything." She gave him a reassuring smile as they left.

They drove in silence, Vic reflecting on everything that he had learned today, Cole reflecting on how to best keep Vic safe from the menace that he was determined to face. Cole walked Vic to his door.

"Good night, Vic. I'll see you in the morning. Or, if you need to rest for longer, the afternoon is fine as well. I have a lot more research to do between now and then anyway. I'll brief you when you get there."

Vic nodded. As badly as he wanted to pull an all-nighter on this, he knew better. There was no way he was going to be able to stay conscious for much longer. Which really made it just as well that Cole did not need sleep.

"Yeah. See you in the morning." Vic nodded and went inside. Out of habit, he checked his answering machine as he got ready for bed.

"Heya, Vicky. It's Mar. Call if you need anything, yeah? Um… take care. Bye."

He frowned. Her voice sounded off. He picked up the phone and got her machine. "Mar, it's Vic. Just got your message. Is--"

"Hey, Vicky," Maria yawned, picking up the phone. "Sorry. Must have dozed off."

"Didn't mean to wake you. You okay? You sounded funny on the machine."

"Just worried. Being a mother-hen again. You okay?"

"I will be."

"Okay. You want to talk or anything? Need company?"

"Need sleep."

"Okay. Call if you _do_ need anything." There was a pause. "Doesn't matter how late, you know. I'll be here."

"Thanks, Mar, but you're supposed to be getting plenty of rest, too."

She chuckled softly. "Look, let's do lunch tomorrow since we both have the day off for some reason."

"No can do, not tomorrow. Another time?"

"Yeah, whenever. You stay in touch."

"You, too, Mar. Night."

"Night, Vicky. Sweet dreams."

He smiled faintly. "Sweet dreams, Mar." He shook his head as he hung up. She could be such a mother-hen at times. It was incredibly endearing.

***

Mel was just finishing closing up when Cole returned from dropping Vic off.

"He wants to help," Cole told her. "I tried to talk him out of it, but he's like you. Stubborn."

Mel smiled and nodded. "He is that." She finished up and locked the front door. "Coming to bed? Or are you going to work all night?"

Cole hesitated for a few moments. "There's not much more to do tonight," he began.

"Then come to bed," Mel suggested, smiling and taking his hand. "No rule says you _have_ to stay all night if you don't want to." 

"You _know_ that I enjoy staying all night." Cole smiled and followed her up the stairs and into the bedroom. 'Enjoy' was probably too weak a term for the way he felt about holding Mel in his arms all night.

"Did you tell him about us?" Mel asked as she pulled off her clothes.

"No, Mel. I thought that it should be up to you. Are you going to tell him that you aren't entirely human?"

"I'm… I'm not sure yet, Cole." She shrugged. "One trauma at a time, I think. Let him get used to the idea that _you_ aren't human first. I mean… obviously I'm going to tell him at _some_ point, I just don't…"

Cole smiled and caressed her throat. "I understand, Taushi."

  
Mel smiled and lit several candles as Cole undressed. As they snuggled together under the covers, she asked, "So, you're going to let him help you catch Zarreth?" The thought was a frightening one. Zarreth was dangerous and Vic… he was only human.

"I think that if I didn't, he would try to anyway." Cole shrugged and sighed, tightening his grip on her. It was a dangerous thing that Vic was asking. "I'm hoping that I can use this case as a kind of training exercise for him. So that he'll be better equipped to help us in the future."

"Mmm, that works." Mel snuggled into his chest as she spoke, knowing that he would not be in the mood for more than cuddling tonight. He got like that when he had been thinking of Ashi and Nallia. "Are you going to stay the night?"

He nodded. "I think so, Mel. I need to meditate." He kissed the top of her head. "Sleep well, Taushi."

Mel nodded. "Wake me up if you want to talk or anything."

Cole nodded, grateful for the offer even though he knew that he would not take her up on it. Holding Mel was incredibly calming in and of itself, and she _did_ need her sleep. Although he _planned_ on spending the night formulating a plan to apprehend Zarreth, he suspected that much of the night would be spent reflecting on the beauty of the woman in his arms. The thought was an appealing one. Until his thoughts turned back to Zarreth and her intentions. Smallpox, a human virus that had killed hundreds of thousands once before, and might again. Men, women, children. Indiscriminately. Men like Vic and Jonas. Children like Tina and Lontoria. Women like Mel… Women like Nallia, his first wife. Children like his beautiful Ashi. To have Mel taken away from him as they had been…

He tightened his grip on the sleeping woman, glad that she was no longer awake to be troubled by the tears that were now falling freely down his face.


	4. What's a Dessarian and what's with Cole ...

Author's Note: Yes, Jumper Prime, you're right, lol. Thing is that I'm jumping the gun… I have Zin's escape from the vault all set for a fic that takes place _before_ this one but that I just haven't gotten around to writing yet. No worries. All will be revealed in the fullness of time. Or sooner if my muses get off their butts… 

More Spoilers: minor for "Love, Cirronian Style" and "Dark Road Home"

Chapter 4 -- What's a Dessarian and what's with Cole and French Toast?

Mel awoke to the sound of knocking on the apartment door. She automatically started to get up, curious as to why Cole was not in bed until she saw him pulling his shirt on.

"Go back to sleep, Mel. It's probably just Vic," he told her gently. 

Nodding she flopped back onto the bed and pulled a pillow over her head. "No Tracking until you're back up to full-strength," came her muffled reminder.

Cole smiled and shook his head. "Yes, Mel. Sleep well, Mel." Shaking his head, he hurried to answer the door. "Good morning, Vic." He smiled to see that the human looked a _lot_ better. "How are you feeling?"

Punchy from the pain medication, Vic did not bother to censor his reply. "Um, like I woke up in an episode of the X-Files yesterday."

Cole's smile wavered. "You do know that the X-Files isn't real, don't you Vic?" he asked slowly. "Mel says that only crackpots believe in the X-Files." 

Vic laughed softly. "I know, Cole. It was… um, a joke. Sort of." He grinned uncomfortably. "I mean… this is _way_ stranger than the X-Files."

Cole smiled. "Don't worry, Vic. You'll get used to it."

"You really will," Mel added, entering the living-room, still wrapped in a bathrobe. "Make you guys some breakfast?" she offered.

"Yes, please, Mel." Cole smiled and nodded.

"Sounds great, Mel," Vic agreed, nodding. 

"I'm going to go shave," Cole announced to no one in particular, leaving the living-room.

"So, how long did it take for you to get used to all of this?" Vic asked as Mel walked into the kitchen.

She considered for a few minutes. "On a practical level, a few weeks."

"On a practical level?" he repeated, frowning.

"Well…" She shrugged. "Um, you get used to the _idea_ of a bunch of aliens running around Chicago playing cops and robbers a _lot_ sooner than you get used to living with it every day." She smiled at him. "But even that doesn't take a _long_ time. I mean, people can adapt to a _lot_ of different things. After awhile, it really does become old-hat. It just… stops making an impact."

"Really?" Vic raised an eyebrow. 

Mel nodded. "I mean, honestly there isn't a day that goes by where Cole doesn't do _something_ to surprise me, but… it's in context, so it's not as big of a shock as it would be if it just _happened_. Does that make sense?"

Vic nodded slowly. "Kind of. I think. So… only crack-pots believe in the X-Files?" he laughed.

Mel grinned and nodded. "Well, I had to tell him something," she whispered, shrugging. She looked to make sure Cole was out of ear-shot before whispering, "He believes _everything_ he sees and hears unless you actually _tell_ him that it isn't true."

Vic looked over his shoulder, in the direction of the bathroom. "You're kidding?"

She shook her head. "Cirronians don't lie themselves, so it's… not a concept they have an easy time with…" She shrugged. 

Vic frowned, bemused. How did males and females of Cole's species get _along_ with each other in the face of total honesty? Vic had always thought that the little white lies made relationships flow a _lot_ more smoothly. The 'no that dress doesn't make you look fat' variety of lies were very helpful at times for getting out of awkward situations. But Cirronians did not lie. _Ever._ Wow…

"French toast?" Mel asked.

Vic smiled. "Please."

Mel pulled several eggs out of the refrigerator. "So, Cole tells me that you want to go after Zarreth?" 

Vic nodded. "This chick's bad news, Mel."

"Which Cole seems to think is a good reason for you to stay out of it." Mel set the eggs on the counter and turned to face her friend. "And I agree, Vic. Zarreth is not like any criminal that you've ever encountered before. She's... did Cole _tell_ you what Dessarians are capable of?"

He shrugged. "He said that she was a thief who had also committed several murders."

"She's _Dessarian_, Vic," Mel told him in a firm voice. "They're dangerous. She nearly killed Cole the first time he went up against her. That's something very few of the fugitives are capable of." She inhaled deeply, shaking her head. "Vic, all of these aliens have _powers_. What you saw between Cole and Kellen, that was just a sample. Vardians are bad, but Dessarians scare me a hell of a lot more." She turned back to the counter, closing her eyes for a minute to compose herself so that she could explain to Vic about Dessarians without getting hysterical.

"You're biased," Cole pointed out, reentering the living-room.

"Maybe. Maybe it's just that we've had more close calls with Dessarians than with any other species."

"They _are_ formidable," Cole allowed, nodding. "But not unstoppable."

"Um… new guy over here," Vic said softly, raising his hand.

"They're chameleons," Mel told him. "They can change their appearance and personality at will." She sighed. "You remember that killer last year? Was imitating Gacy?" 

Vic thought for a minute, then nodded. "Yeah. Killings stopped at right around the number Gacy had killed and they never caught him, even though they found the bodies."

Mel nodded. "And right after that, there were those killings in London?"

"Imitating Jack the Ripper, sure." Vic nodded. "Read about it in the paper. That chain was never completed, though…"

Mel nodded, pushing aside a _lot_ of bad memories. "Thanks to Cole. The… the, um, killer was a Dessarian. Cole said that he was basically _becoming _these killers."

Cole nodded. "Dessarians are very adept at blending into their surroundings, both physically and psychologically. This one imitated multiple murders from all over the Migar Federation and later all over earth. But, as Mel said, he did not _just_ imitate them. He _became_ them."

Vic blinked at this revelation. "Mel, think I can get a drink with breakfast?"

"Coffee or milk?"

"You're a worse mother hen than Maria," he accused.

Mel folded her arms over her chest, grinning. "You really think that's what she's doing, Vic?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Coffee or milk," she repeated. "Or orange juice."

"Coffee, black and incredibly high octane," Vic told her, frowning at the comment about Maria. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"I need to go check my progress," Cole said softly. He leaned towards Mel to kiss her, then caught himself, pulling back. It really was an incredibly annoying restriction. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Mind if I join you?" Vic asked.

Cole shrugged. "No, Vic, I wouldn't mind. We'll be back in a few minutes, Mel."

"Okay, guys." Mel nodded absently, turning her attention to breakfast. "I'll bring you the coffee when it's ready."

"Thank you, Mel," Cole said, smiling at her as he left.

"Thanks, Mel," Vic added, following.

Mel turned on the radio and started breakfast with an indulgent sigh, knowing that the two would probably be in the war-room all day. Once she had the bar set up and the bartenders had arrived, she would probably spend most of the day there herself. That was par for the course these days, and she was as guilty of overextending herself as Cole.

***

"So, you really MacGyvered all this stuff together yourself?" Vic asked Cole as the Cirronian scanned through the day's headlines on one of the computer-screens.

"What is 'MacGyvered'?" Cole asked, looking up at him.

"Um… MacGyver is a guy… a _human_ guy… who can… um, build a fusion reactor with bubble-gum and duct-tape," Vic said, shrugging.

Cole considered this thoughtfully. "I don't think that's possible, Vic. He would need at least a flashlight and a blender in addition. As well as a line out and--"

"I wasn't being literal," Vic interrupted, remembering what Mel had said about Cirronians believing everything they were told. Obviously she had _not_ been exaggerating.

"Oh." Cole nodded and returned his attention to the computer. "Besides, I thought humans were still forced to rely on fission for their power needs?"

"We _are_, Cole," Mel said gently, carrying in two cups of coffee. "At least until Lontoria graduates from college."

__

"Lontoria?" Vic mouthed.

__

"Later," she mouthed back.

Cole chuckled softly as he accepted his coffee. He took a small sip and made a face, handing the cup to Vic. "Extra high octane," he muttered, grimacing.

"Sorry, Cole." Mel handed him the other cup. "Extra sweet." To Vic, she explained, "He has a sweet-tooth like you would not believe."

Cole nodded placidly, half-draining his mug. 

"He's also not affected by caffeine," Mel added, shaking her head. "Which I keep telling him makes drinking coffee kind of pointless."

"Except as a sugar-delivery system," Cole said with a smile, quoting Mel.

"Must be metabolic," Mel said with a shrug. "This guy can kill a quart of Ben and Jerry's in fifteen minutes."

Cole nodded confirmation to Vic who was staring at him curiously. "I especially like cookies and cream," he remarked, emptying his coffee-mug and returning his attention to the computer.

"And you haven't _killed_ him yet?" Vic asked Mel with a laugh. Mel _adored_ cookies and cream and guarded her supply jealously.

Mel grinned. "Came close the first time."

"No you didn't," Cole said without looking up from the screen. "You just shouted something about PMS and started crying."

Mel blushed and scratched her neck. "Um… I'm going to go check on that French-toast now," she said, backing out of the room.

Vic stared at Cole, laughing. "_Damn_, she lets you get away with a lot," he said, shaking his head.

"What do you mean?" Cole asked, looking quizzically at Vic.

Vic realized that he was, once again, genuinely clueless. "Um, never mind… So, what do we have on Zarreth? Anything? She strikes me as the type who generally flies in under the radar." At Cole's perplexed look, he explained, "Um, the sort of person who… doesn't get noticed until it's too late."  


Cole nodded, filing the phrase away in his growing lexicon for future reference. "Yes, Vic. She is that type. However, even the best thieves need equipment and… their actions can be predicted if you know what to look for…" Cole was typing as he spoke. "Stovington, Vermont…"

"Vermont?" Vic thought for a minute. "There's an infectious disease lab in Stovington, right?" he asked. He seemed to recall having read something about it in _US News and World Report _in an article they had done on biological warfare.

"Yes, Vic."

"So, they're probably moving the sample there from the CDC headquarters in Atlanta?" he ventured, since it was, as far as he knew, the only facility in the country currently housing a supply of smallpox.

"That's what the official reports say." Cole looked up. "But they're inaccurate."

Vic's eyes widened. "You sure?"

Cole nodded. "I am. There are other reports, unofficial." He looked up at Vic. "The shipment will be moving through Chicago," he announced, looking back at the screen.

"_Chicago_?" Vic repeated, frowning in confusion.

"Yes, Vic. In spite of what the official reports state, the sample was never _in_ Atlanta." He gestured for Vic to come look at the screen. "It originated at this military base."

"_Nellis_? What the hell?" Vic shook his head. "There isn't a research facility there! It's scrub-land, a giant missile-range…" He frowned at Cole, wondering what the alien knew that he did not. And _how_. And how many of the other aliens knew what Cole knew. Mel had told him it would get easier to deal with, but so far it just kept getting harder. "Right?"

Cole nodded. "Yes, Vic. The sample was flown there from…" He pointed to a map. "Can you read that?"

"Uzbekistan." Vic sighed and shook his head. "It _would_ be one of the 'Stans." 

"I don't understand, Vic." Cole frowned up at him.

Vic sighed. "Right about now, Cole, three-quarters of this world's problems originate in countries whose names end in the word Stan. Afghanistan, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, Turkmenistan… Places like that. There must be a dozen of them over there."

"I see…" Cole shrugged absently. "So the sample will travel through Chicago, and I'm betting that this is when Zarreth will strike."

"In Chicago? Knowing you operate here?"

"It's her comfort-zone. She knows the city, has contacts here…"  


Vic nodded, absorbing Cole's words. "But this thing has _got_ to be under full military escort…"

"Oh, I'm sure it is, Vic. I'm equally sure that Zarreth can get in… under the radar."

Vic looked dubious. "Under the radar of a bunch of highly trained, super-vigilant _soldiers_?"

"Yes, Vic." Cole nodded. "This is how Zarreth works. She has a natural ability to blend seamlessly into any situation." He gave another shrug. "For all we know, she is in the _body_ of a soldier."

Vic frowned. He had not considered that before, but from what Cole had said, these aliens could be in anyone. Even if Zarreth was not in the body of a soldier herself, there was nothing to keep her from having inside help.

After a few moments, Vic nodded. "Okay, we have to consider that she _could_ be one of the people that's responsible for guarding the shipment,could have such a person working for her, or could have inside information in some other way. How do we work against that? How do we counteract it?"

Cole shook his head. "We don't, Vic. This is my third time facing Zarreth, and the one thing I've learned is that you can't assume anything. She knows that predictability makes it more likely that she'll be caught, so she varies her methods frequently."

"In other words, expect the unexpected?"  


"Yes, Vic."

"Wonderful," he muttered.

Cole frowned. "Not really, Vic. It puts us at a serious disadvantage."

"It was sarcasm, Cole," he told him.

"Oh." Cole smiled absently.

"You do know what that is?" Vic asked softly, shaking his head. Cole not being human might have explained an awful lot, but he was still a _strange_ guy…

"Yes, Vic. Mel explained it to me." Cole smiled up at him.

"Of course she did," Vic muttered. "Um, so, how do you fight one of these Dessarians?"

"With extreme caution," Cole told him, rising. He absently reconfigured several pieces of equipment as he spoke. "Dessaria is an inhospitable planet with numerous predators and other natural hazards. As a result, they are vicious fighters with a strong survival instinct. Their natural abilities combine with this to make them, on an individual basis, probably the most dangerous life-form _in_ the Migar Federation."

"More dangerous than Kellen? Um, Vardians?"

Cole nodded. "In most people's opinions, yes, Vic. Vardians are very strong and brutal fighters, but Dessarians are equally brutal, sneakier, and have a stronger survival-instinct."

Vic inhaled deeply. "So this Zarreth chick is _very_ bad news?"

"Yes, Vic." Cole paused for a moment. "I appreciate your desire to help me, but this might not be the best fugitive for you to start with…"

"Nuh-uh." Vic shook his head. "I am not walking away from this game. Not with the stakes what they are." 

Vic swallowed hard, mentally steeling himself. This was big, he knew that, and he was definitely outgunned and outclassed, but he was not about to walk away from a case like this, where hundreds of thousands might die. It was not, as he had initially thought, a matter of a few hundred more criminals roaming the face of the earth. _That_ he might have let slide, but _now_… The stakes were just too high. Cole was all the human race had, and Vic had every intention of helping him in every way that he could, both personally and through his own large pool of contacts and informants. Of course, he would have to be incredibly cautious in that regard to prevent Cole's discovery, but there was nothing to, at some point, keep him from revealing the existence of the others. He shook those thoughts off. Long-term was not important right now. _All_ that mattered was keeping Zarreth from getting her hands on that smallpox shipment.

"This is no game, Vic." Cole sighed. "Kellen nearly killed you. What is to keep Zarreth from doing the same?"

"The fact that now I know what I'm up against." He hoped that he was showing more bravado than he felt, because he felt scared soul-less at the prospect of facing another one of these aliens, one who Mel said was more intimidating than the type he had already faced. "Not backing down, Cole. Not from this."

Cole sighed and started to speak again when the war-room door opened and Mel peered in. "Hello, Mel."

"Hi, Mel," Vic added.

"Are we eating breakfast in the war-room again?" she asked. "Or are we actually going to pretend we have a _normal_ life and eat in the kitchen?"

Cole glanced at Vic. "Whichever you prefer is fine."  


"Kitchen. With all this clutter, the room barely _holds_ three people." He paused. "People?" he repeated, glancing at Cole, wondering what the PC term was for an alien these days.

"People," Mel assured him as Cole stared, perplexed. "Kitchen it is. Come on, guys." 

They rose, Cole with some reluctance, and followed Mel from the war-room and down the hall.

In the kitchen, she smiled as she slid plates in front of Cole and Vic. "Cole's been on high-alert pretty much since he found out about the second escape," she explained to Vic, "so we do most of our eating in the war-room."

"We?" Vic repeated, pausing with his fork half-way to his mouth. Next to him, Cole was eating slowly, eyes closed, a slightly reflective smile on his face, not really paying attention to _anything_ going on around him, simply savoring the tastes and textures of his meal. Mel was obviously used to that, because she did not spare him a second glance. "How deep are you in all this?"

"Pretty deep," Mel told Vic gently. "I mean, there are certain things that Cole just won't allow me to help with, but I help whenever I can."

"How?" Vic asked, remembering his food and taking a few bites as Mel formulated an answer.

"Well, other than the obvious stuff, sheltering him, educating him about our culture, um, sometimes I do undercover work…"

"_Undercover_?" Vic repeated, gaping. 

"Yeah." Mel nodded. "Um, like this one time I pretended to be his sister as part of his cover-story," she explained. "He was undercover as a patient in this hospital and I was his outside source."

For the time being, she decided, it would be better to leave it at that. There was no reason to tell Vic how close they had both come to death on that occasion, even less reason to tell him about the time they had gone undercover as newlyweds. Vic was still incredibly protective of Mel, and he was likely to remain so for some time. Her involvement with Cole's cases would take careful handling, her involvement with _Cole_ would take even more. She _was_ going to tell him everything, just not until he was ready to hear it.

Vic watched Cole eating as though he had never experienced French-toast before, and Mel playing June Cleaver as she cooked more food, oblivious to the alien who seemed to have gone into a trance at his first taste. Mel kept talking about Zarreth, and Cole's other fugitives, as she cooked, refilling both of their plates and coffee cups while she talked as though the whole situation were the most natural thing in the world. That alone was enough to throw Vic. It made the whole situation seem that much more surreal.

__

X-Files my ass, he thought as he ate. _Try Twilight Zone…_


	5. Under the Radar

****

Chapter 5 -- Under the Radar

Mel brought them a simple lunch of sandwiches in the war-room, not even bothering to try to pull them away from their work. By then, they were both too deeply absorbed in assimilating information and making plans for her to register as more than a blip on their radar. Mel listened for several minutes at the door before realizing that they were talking about three things at once: Zarreth's criminal history, train schedules, and human military procedure. Both would have to have a solid understanding of all three before a plan could be formulated, so Mel left them to it. 

She knew that Cole would brief her tonight after Vic had gone on whatever plan they eventually developed. Having Vic playing for the 'home team', as Mel had come to think of them, was going to take some getting used to, but it was a good thing. After all, Vic was a cop, Mel, a woman who had never gotten around to going to law school. His partnership with Cole would be a good thing, to be sure, but Mel had absolutely no intention of allowing herself to get excluded. 

Right now, Vic was in training, and that _would_ take time, she knew, having undergone a lot of training from Cole herself. Vic had to be fully cognizant of the situation or he was a risk to all of them. Mel was more than willing to be of secondary interest to Cole. Grinning at the thought of Vic and Cole actually working together instead of being at odds, Mel returned to the bar.

She was pleased to see that the lunch-time crowd was good today. Smiling, she stepped behind the bar. Lately she had found herself considering selling it again, as she had when she first inherited it. Now that the Vardian weapon was safely hidden away _elsewhere_, there was no real reason to keep the bar in the family. Except for its sentimental value. And _that_ was her only reason for _not_ selling. This bar, its secrets, her heritage, had brought her and Cole together. That alone was worth the price of admission. _And_ it was turning a nice profit now. But it was the former consideration that really kept Mel from selling. She had always been sentimental that way.

Her reverie was interrupted by Detective Maria Cruz, who walked into the crowded bar and straight up to Mel. "I need to talk to Vic," she informed Mel in a tense voice. "Something tells me he's here."

Mel considered denying it, then realized that it was probably work-related and nodded. "He's upstairs having lunch with Cole. I'll go get him."  
  
"Thank you."

"Offer you a drink?"

"Bourbon, please."

"Ice? Soda?"

"Thank you, no." Maria shook her head.

Mel quickly poured the drink and handed it to her. "I'll just go get Vic."

"Thank you, miss Porter."

"Please, Mel."

"Of course, Mel." Maria nodded and watched her go, more curious now than before. Not having lunch with _Mel_, but with Mel's gentleman friend. It was a curious development. Maria had always gotten the impression that Vic did not like Cole Hauser very much. 

Vic followed Mel down the stairs, still looking pale and a bit unsteady. He said something to Mel, then walked over to Maria. "What's going on?" he asked.

From the slight slur of his voice and his glassy eyes, Maria could tell that he was making liberal use of the pills he had gotten in the ER. Of course, since she was doing the same herself, she was in no position to judge. 

"Gregory James is dead, Vic," she informed him, half-draining her glass. She fell silent as Mel handed a drink to Vic before hustling off to attend to another customer. "Unknown causes, like the others."

Vic nodded slowly, wondering why she was staring at him like that. Right, doll's eyes. In his effort to keep his mind off of the pain and on work, he had been over-doing with the pills. "That's too bad," he said simply, not sure what else _to_ say. He took a long pull of the scotch Mel had brought him, wondering what it was going to take to keep his knowledge of what was _really _going on from Maria, wondering if he should even _try._

"It is, although it saves the DA a lot of work." Maria sighed. "Add one to the body-count," she murmured.

"Huh?"

"Oh, what we were talking about yesterday. They snap, they kill a few people, they mysteriously die. It's damned annoying."

Vic stared. Her voice was strange, _edgy_ for lack of a better term. "You okay?" he asked, concerned.

  
"I'm frustrated!" she replied, shaking her head. "I mean, come _on_, Vicky. It's like a freaking episode of the X-Files!" she snapped, lowering her voice when Mel glanced in her direction.

Vic nodded sympathetically. "It is that," he agreed, wondering how she would have reacted to the _whole_ truth. Not well, was his guess. "Maybe… maybe we're seeing things that aren't there, Mar," he said softly, feeling like crap for lying to her but not really wanting to draw her into the situation in which he had just found himself. 

"And maybe you've had one too many drinks," she countered, frowning. Yesterday, he had been as concerned by this bizarre trend as she had been. Today he was dismissing it.

"Not the drinks. It's the pills. Fogging my brain," he told her, seizing on _any_ excuse for the abrupt turn-about. 

He should have known better than to try to convince Maria of _anything_ other than the truth. She was just too perceptive. It occurred to Vic with alarming clarity that she _was_ going to have to be told the truth, or some _variant_ of the truth, sooner or later. Of course, it was really not his place to tell her _anything. _For now, until he could totally understand what was going on himself, _and_ come up with a compelling explanation for having not been straight with her from the beginning, he was just going to have to do his best to keep her in the dark. No easy task with a woman as perceptive as Maria, but necessary.

Mel watched the two out of the corner of her eye until Cole walked down the stairs. "Who is that with Vic?" he asked her.

"Detective Maria Cruz, Vic's partner," Mel told him with a sigh. "And I think she suspects that something's going on."  
  
Cole frowned. "That's not good, Mel."

"I know." She nodded and walked into the back room, closely followed by Cole. 

He had this utterly endearing habit of following her any time she went into one of the back rooms or down to the basement alone. He was always very good about respecting Mel's feelings about public displays of affection, but at the same time he looked for every possible opportunity to get her alone so that he _could_ display his affection for her physically. 

"Will Maria be a problem?" he asked softly, taking the opportunity to caress her throat in the privacy of the storage area.

Mel closed her eyes, enjoying the touch, but did not let it distract her from answering. "She's a smart woman, Cole, and she's _bound_ to start asking questions."

"Will Vic tell her the truth?" Cole asked.

Mel shrugged helplessly. " I have no _clue_ if he's going to tell Maria. They're close enough that he _might_." She shook her head. "Or he _might_ keep his mouth shut, but Maria _is _going to get suspicious. If she isn't already," she added, sighing and shaking her head again.

Cole sighed and nodded, sitting on the edge of a box. "Can she be trusted, Mel?" he asked, taking her hands in his own.

"Vic trusts her with his life. How far that extends to his friends… I just don't know. She's never been anything but civil to me, but this is _big._"

Cole rose again and touched her throat reassuringly. "Taushi, be calm," he urged as he caressed her throat.

Mel closed her eyes, allowing the touch to soothe her. Sighing, she reached up and pulled Cole's face towards her own. "I love you so much," she whispered. At times like this, when she was upset and he could calm her with just a touch and a gentle word, she almost swore that she loved him more than usual. The rest of the time, she knew that such a thing was simply not possible.

"And I love you, Mel," he replied, kissing her gently. "And _together_ there is nothing that we can not face," he whispered, his lips brushing lightly against hers as he spoke. He held her close for several minutes, resting his forehead against hers. 

"Nothing at all," she agreed, smiling and pulling away far enough to look into his amazing eyes.

He kissed the top of her head, holding her close for a few more minutes. "Do you think he'll be long with Maria?"

Mel nodded. "Yeah. She'll keep him as long as she can, I think, trying to get answers." She looked up at him. "Want to tell me what you guys have been talking about?"

"Many things, Mel." Cole shook his head. "This smallpox is a dangerous thing, Mel. People would actually use it against each other? As a weapon?"

Mel closed her eyes and nodded admission of the fact. "Makes us not much better than the Vardians, doesn't it?" she whispered.

"Mel," Cole sighed, drawing her into his arms again, wishing that it were _not_ the middle of the day, that there was not a bar to tend to and Vic to deal with and a fugitive to be caught on a time-line. All he wanted was to hold his amazing mate in his arms, kissing her and making love to her until her fears and doubts were swept away. "Your species has so much to learn, Mel," he whispered, "But this does not make you bad or evil. You are _not_ the Vardians. You never will be."

She looked up at him, smiling as he brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "Will we ever be like you?"

"I think you will some day, Mel. I believe that with everything that I am." He smiled lovingly at her. "You may have a head-start, but your entire race has _great_ potential."

"If we can survive the next few decades," she muttered with a sigh. 

Cole frowned and held her more tightly. "No human is doing this, Mel. Try to remember that."

"Doesn't matter that it's a Dessarian and a Vardian this time, Cole. The _buyer's_ going to be human…"

"Hush," he soothed, turning her around and rubbing her shoulders. "Every species has its bad people, Mel. Yours, _mine_, it's no different."

"Feels different."

"Of course it does, Mel." Cole smiled and gently nuzzled the back of her neck, smiling as she shivered. "You think that it doesn't bother me more when it's a Cirronian criminal? Of course human criminals are going to bother you more." He sighed deeply. "We should go back to the bar before we're missed."

Mel sighed and nodded. "Yeah. So what were you and Vic talking about?" she asked as they reemerged from the back room. 

"We had just finished formulating a plan when you came up. I'll tell you about it tonight."

Mel smiled and nodded. "Sounds good." Of course, the word 'tonight' sounded good for reasons that had nothing to do with Vic or Zarreth or plans. The Cirronian was in an amorous mood today. Mel smiled with anticipation.

"Oh, there you guys are," Vic said as they came out of the back room. "Cole, since you and I were pretty much finished up, I thought I'd go out to lunch with Maria."

"Word with you in private first, Vic?" Mel asked.

"Uh, sure." Vic looked over his shoulder to where Maria was standing and waved to her to wait.

"You weren't planning on telling her anything?" Mel asked in a low voice.

Vic shook his head. "Not until I'm entirely sure what's going on myself." He shrugged. "I might want you guys to tell her some day, Mel. The two of you need all the help you can get, and Mar's a good cop…"

"I know, but can you trust her _not_ to out Cole?" Mel asked softly.

Vic hesitated. "Right now, that's the only thing keeping me from telling her everything, Mel," he admitted. "And if the answer turns out to be 'no', then I am _not_ saying a word."

Mel nodded and patted his shoulder. "Thanks, Vic."

"What, no hug?"

Mel laughed and threw a bar-rag at him. "See you tomorrow?"

"Bright and early," he assured her, nodding. "Cole." He smacked the Cirronian companionably on the shoulder, then turned to join Maria. 

Cole watched the two leaving the bar together. "Are they lovers, Mel?" he asked.

Mel laughed and shook her head. "No, Cole, not as far as I know. Why?"

"They're very attracted to each other."

"Really?" Mel asked, grinning triumphantly. "I _knew_ it."

"I thought you said you didn't know."

"Well, I don't know if they're dating, but I kind of knew that Maria liked Vic."

"Oh." Cole nodded slowly. "Female intuition?" he guessed.

"Uh-huh." Mel winked at him. "So, come on. Tell me all about this plan?"

***

"You and Hauser seem to be getting pretty cozy," Maria remarked as they waited for their pizza to come. She absently rearranged the silverware in the booth as she regarded Vic.

"Guy's allowed to have friends."

"You _hate_ Cole Hauser, Vicky," Maria pointed out. "Bad news, nothing but trouble… I distinctly recall hearing these things from you…"

Vic shifted uncomfortably. "Okay, so I _misjudged_ the guy…"

"You were _jealous_," she corrected him, pouring herself another glass of wine. "Face it, Vicky, I've been your partner for too long. You _can't_ pull the wool over my eyes…"

"Not _trying _to," Vic replied with a laugh. "So I was wrong about him. It happens." When she did not stop staring, he sighed and admitted, "And I was jealous. Happy?"

"I'd be more happy if I could shake this headache," she muttered, rubbing her eyes.

"What say we get this pizza to go and we get you home?" Vic suggested.

"Sounds like a plan." She sighed and nodded. "I'm sorry. I was fine when I went to the Watchfire. Guess my pill just wore off…"

He nodded. "Yeah K… James did a number on both of us." Vic winced. He had almost called him Kellen. Fortunately, Maria seemed too preoccupied with fishing her painkillers out of her purse to notice. When the waitress arrived with the still-steaming deep-dish pizza, he asked, "Can we get this to go instead?"

"Um, yes, sir." She nodded and hurried off with the pizza to put it in a box.

"Good thing we took a cab," Vic said.

Maria nodded in agreement and washed a pill down with the contents of her wine-glass. She split the remainder of the carafe between their two glasses and drained hers. "Want to stop and grab a video on the way?" she offered, hoping to convince him to stay for awhile. He seemed like a man in chronic need of a sympathetic ear or, at the very least, some company and a funny movie to distract him from his problems.

"Sounds good." Vic nodded. 

He knew that there was nothing more that he could do regarding Zarreth until tomorrow, and that he would be anxious unless he could take his mind off things, so a movie with Maria seemed like a perfect solution. Of course, _anything_ was preferable to going home alone after the two days he had been through. 

***

"Shrek?" Vic read incredulously as Maria got plates and napkins from her kitchen. 

"I'll have you know it's a funny movie," she informed him, grinning and walking back into the living room. 

"You watch many cartoons?"

"Saw this one at my godson's birthday party." She shrugged and put the plates and napkins on the table, walking back into the kitchen. "It's a funny movie. Funnier after a few shots of _this_." She returned with a bottle of Jack Daniel's. As long as neither of them was allowed to work for the next week, there was no harm in taking the edge off.

"You drink Jack with _pizza_?" Vic asked, staring.

"Normally I drink Brandy Alexander with pizza, but my blender's broken." She shrugged helplessly.

Vic blinked, not sure if that was a joke and even less sure if he really wanted to know one way or another. He grinned and transferred two slices of the exceedingly gooey pizza from the box to the plates. "Well, pour me a double-shot and let's plug the movie in."

"That's the spirit, Vicky."

"So, you do this often?" Vic asked, sitting down on her overstuffed couch.

"What? Pizza, drugs, booze, and 'toons?" Maria raised an eyebrow at Vic, a sly smile playing across her face and her black eyes sparkling. "Only with special guys."

Vic blinked, wondering if that second painkiller had been wise after the drink at the Watchfire and the wine at the pizza place. He could have _sworn_ that Maria had just hit on him. Shaking his head, he traded a slice of pizza for a glass of Jack Daniel's.

"I've got diet coke for that," Maria offered.

"Sounds good." Vic shrugged. Might as well.

Maria grabbed a can of diet coke from the kitchen and split it between their two glasses, topping both off with Jack Daniel's afterwards. "You don't have plans for this evening, do you?" she asked. "Because this might interfere with them."

"I'm all yours," Vic assured her, grabbing his pizza and a few napkins.

"Goody, goody," Maria said in her best Hannibal Lecter voice.

Vic snorted and shook his head. "You have a sick sense of humor."

Maria shrugged, not bothering to deny it. She turned on the tape and grabbed her own pizza and drink, settling onto the couch next to Vic. "So, you going to tell me what's going on with you and Mel now?"

"There's nothing to tell. We broke up. End of story."

"And you were wearing her boyfriend's pants yesterday _because_?" Maria teased.

"One, he's _not_ her boyfriend. _Two_… I thought we were going to watch this stupid movie."

"Not stupid," Maria corrected, sidling a little closer to him.

Vic stared. 

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Nothing." He shook his head. Definitely one drink too many, playing games with his senses. Right? Maria could not possibly be… He half-drained his glass and glanced over at her. She caught him looking and smiled benignly. "Are you trying to make a move on me?" he asked finally, giving her room to back down if she still wanted. She had always been a tease and was probably just being one now.

"Is it working?" she replied, her smile widening. She did not have the least intention of blinking first in this particular game of chicken. It was definitely win-win.

Vic finished draining his glass, wishing that he had less on his mind than he did. "Think it might be, Mar," he told her cautiously.

"Good." Abandoning pretext, she snuggled up next to him. "Now watch the movie," she ordered firmly, resting her head on his shoulder.

Vic stared at her, stunned, through most of the opening credits. By the time the donkey was flying, his shocked expression had been wholly replaced by a perplexed smile. _Mother hen, huh? A tease, you say? Try again, Vicky._ Mel was right. He really could be incredibly dense at times. Good thing he was feeling a little too relaxed for second thoughts. Smiling, he slid an arm around her shoulder and turned his attention to the movie which really _was_ pretty funny.


	6. Changing Perceptions

****

Chapter 6 -- Changing Perceptions

"I never had any idea that you would get so tense before going after a fugitive," Mel told Cole as she massaged the tension out of his neck and shoulders. 

Stretched out on his stomach beneath her, Cole craned his head in her direction, smiling. "And I never had any idea that these back-rubs felt so good."

"Oh, you just like it when I touch you," she teased, laying down on his bare back and sliding her arms underneath him, hugging him.

"It's an added bonus," he admitted honestly.

Mel gave a small laugh. He really _was_ becoming more human all the time, but he still managed to retain an amazing degree of his innocence, even when things got physical. It was a strange, and appealing, contrast. "So, what's the plan?" she asked, rolling off of him and propping herself up on her elbows.

"The plan is to stop Zarreth."

"_Really?_" Mel asked, affecting shock. Shaking her head, she hit him with a pillow. And abruptly found herself pinned beneath 200 pounds of laughing Cirronian, her hands held tightly in his. "Hey! No fair using hyper-speed in a pillow-fight!" she protested, laughing. When he released her hands and sat up, his eyes sparkling with laughter, she hit him again with the pillow, just to teach him a lesson. "Goof!" she muttered, returning the pillow to its proper place on the bed.

"Goof? A goof is a mistake, Mel."

"Or a silly person," she explained, smiling and shaking her head. "The _plan_, Cole?"

"The plan." He nodded, then sighed. "The plan is so incredibly crude that we came up with it in 30 seconds and spent the rest of the day trying to find a better one."

"Oh, Cole," Mel murmured sympathetically, sliding behind him and resuming her interrupted massage. With a deep sigh, she rested her chin on his shoulder. "What _is_ the plan?"

"Stake out the train-yards until Zarreth shows up."

Mel sighed and closed her eyes. "Leaves an awful lot to chance."

"We'll have you on the computers, Mel. We'll know if there's a fugitive anywhere nearby."

Mel sighed but nodded. "Will you be able to use hyper-speed if you need to?" she asked finally. "After that little stunt you just pulled?"  


He nodded. "It wasn't actual hyper-speed, Mel, just moving very fast. It didn't tire me; I'll be fine."

"Okay." She smiled and nodded, sliding her arms around him from behind.

"I'm worried about Vic, Mel," Cole admitted, brushing his cheek against hers.

"He not taking things well?" Mel asked.

"He seems to be, Mel." Cole gave a small, one-shouldered shrug. "But he isn't moving very well and he is on a lot of pain medication…"

"And if you heal him the rest of the way, that leaves you more vulnerable when you face Zarreth," Mel sighed.

"Yes, Mel."

"Can you walk me through healing him?" Mel asked after a few minutes of thought. 

Cole smiled brightly. It was a perfect solution. "Yes, Mel. If you're willing to reveal yourself to him as Cirronian, you can heal Vic."

"Perfect." Mel nodded. "It's about time I learned that trick anyhow." Smiling, she turned off the lights and stretched out. "Tell me what it involves."

Smiling, Cole stretched out next to Mel and pulled her into his arms, explaining about the healing energy that resided within all beings and telling her how best to tap it.

***

Vic woke with a start, initially more than a little confused as to where he was and why. It took a few minutes for his sleep-clouded mind to clear enough to recall that he was in Maria's guest bedroom. He glanced at the clock, worried that he had overslept. Cole had said to be at the Watchfire by noon, but Vic wanted to get there early. Vic was relieved to see that, in spite of the previous night's over-indulgence in cheap alcohol, his internal clock had not failed him. It was not even eight yet.

Sighing, he pulled his clothes on and staggered into the living room, his head pounding.

"You drink like a man trying to forget," Maria announced, putting down the book she had been reading and rising.

"How much did I have?" Vic asked, grimacing at the taste in his mouth.

"Lost count at two."

"Glasses?"

"Bottles, Vicky." Maria shook her head. "I think we _both_ took years off of our lives last night, but you outdid me by far. Breakfast?"

The mere mention of anything even remotely related to food was enough to send Vic bolting to the bathroom. 

"You'll feel better now," Maria told him gently when he had finished. She crouched next to him with a damp washcloth and reached towards him to sponge his face.

Vic intercepted her hand. "I've got it, Mar," he told her, shifting uncomfortably. 

He did not remember _much_ about the night before, except that the more they had drunk the more casual and straight-forward the flirting had become. It had not gone beyond flirting, there had not even been a goodnight kiss before Maria had abruptly cut him off and half-carried him into the spare bedroom, but he still felt as awkward as hell.

Maria regarded him with a sigh, annoyed with him for acting as if something had changed but more annoyed with herself for having brought it on. Letting him drink so much had not been wise, either, and she felt more than a little guilty that he was in such obvious pain now.

"Please," she whispered, sighing. "Don't let the fact that I turn into a flirt at the mere _sight_ of liquor change what we have."

This time Vic let her smooth the cloth over his face. "Is that all it was, Mar?" he asked softly.

"No, but it's something we can both tell ourselves." She rose, throwing the washcloth into the sink and turning to leave.

  
"Mar…" Vic rose swiftly and caught her arm. The sudden movement sent a wave of dizziness washing over him and he pitched forward.

"Whoa," Maria said, catching him and supporting him. "Let's get you into the living room.

"We need to talk about this," Vic said as she helped him onto the couch.

"Do you remember what you said as I was shoveling you into bed last night?" she asked, walking into the kitchen and pouring a glass of water. "Drink _slowly_," she directed, handing it to him, along with several aspirin.

Vic stared at her, wide-eyed and a little alarmed. He slowly shook his head.

"You said, 'it isn't drugs, Mar. You wouldn't believe me if I told you and you're happier not knowing'. Ring any bells?"

"None at all."

"You're a terrible liar, Vicky." She shook her head and walked into the kitchen. 

"Only to you." He rose and followed her. "Mar, you are _not_ catching me at my best here."

"Yeah, no shit." She shook her head and pulled a loaf of bread out of the cabinet. "I'm guessing your stomach isn't going to be up to much more than plain toast this morning. Finish your water."

"Mar," Vic sighed. "Is this how we're going to be now?"

"Maybe." She shrugged.

"Because of what I said last night? What I didn't say? Work with me here, partner…"

She turned to face him, her expression startled. "You don't… remember?"

Vic swallowed hard. Damn, he had gotten drunk and stepped over the line with his best friend. Perfect. "What did I do?" he whispered anxiously.

"You need a twelve-step program, Vic."

He blinked. She had actually just called him Vic. "Whatever I said or did, Mar, I am _so_ sorry…"

She shook her head. "You didn't. It was nothing like that. It was just… I've seen people on acid trips talking more sense than you were talking last night." She shifted uncomfortably. "Look, Vic, you _have_ to stop drinking if this is what it does to you."

"What did I say?"

"You said that Gregory James has been dead for the past six months. In fact, you were pretty damned insistent about it. Ringing bells yet?"

It was actually ringing quite a few. When he got drunk, he got talkative. He was relatively certain that he had not mentioned aliens per se, but still… "Anything else?"

"After that you were a little too garbled to really understand." She turned around again as the bread popped out of the toaster. "Except to say that if I had come on to you at any other time you would have jumped at the chance," she added in a low voice.

Vic rubbed his mouth. "It was true," he told her gently. "As lame as it sounds, this is just a _really_ bad time for me. Things are kind of spiraling."

She turned around, searching his eyes suspiciously. Suspicion was slowly replaced by surprise. "Are you an alcoholic? Is that what's been going on with you?"

He shook his head quickly. "No! God, no, Mar… It's just… it's like you said. I was drinking like a man trying to forget."

"Forget what?"

"I can't tell you. And even if I could, I wouldn't."

"Kind of leaves us at an impasse, doesn't it?" she said quietly. 

"I guess it does, yeah." Vic sighed deeply. On impulse, he touched her cheek. "I've had a _lot_ of shit dumped on me in the past few days and I care about you way too much to burden you with _any_ of it."

"Partners are supposed to be honest with each other," she told him firmly, not trying to pull away, but also not doing anything to encourage the touch.

"Yes, they are. When they possibly can be." He kissed her forehead. "Remember that episode of the X-Files where Scully thought Mulder was working for the terrorists?"  


"Last night your life's an episode of Twilight Zone, today it's the X-Files?" she muttered, shaking her head.

"Yeah." Vic nodded. "It actually is, Mar."

She stared, stunned. She had known him long enough to know that he was being absolutely serious. Whatever he was into, he was in it up to his eyeballs. She sighed and nodded. "I'm here when you're ready."

"Ready to give you answers or ready for a relationship?"

"I'm here when you're ready," she repeated simply.

Vic blinked. "Thank you. On both counts. I… I should go now."

***

"Look, could you stop pacing, please," Cole sighed to Mel. "We agreed on noon. He'll be here."

"It's not like Vic to wait. He should have been here bright and early. He's not answering his home phone and his cell's turned off…" She stopped pacing, turning to face him. "I'm worried about him, Cole. We have basically changed the axis of his universe and just assumed he was handling it okay because he's a big boy." She shook her head. "What if he isn't taking it as well as we thought?"

"Taushi," Cole whispered, taking her shoulders in his hands. "Vic is a steady--" He paused at the sound of knocking. "See?" he asked.

"I'll get it."

"Yes, Mel." Cole nodded. "You're only nervous because of what you have to tell him. You know that, don't you?"

"I know." She nodded and walked to the door, pulling it open. "There you are." She smiled at Vic, but her smile quickly faded. "Are you okay?"

"Um… lot going on right now."

"Yeah, guess there is. Are you in much pain?"

He shrugged, wincing involuntarily. "Mostly just hung-over."

Mel grabbed his arm and steered him into the living room. "Here, sit. What happened?"

"Oh, left here with Maria yesterday afternoon, started drinking an hour later. Two bottles after that I told my partner of five years that I would have climbed into bed with her then and there if my life hadn't just turned into an episode of The Twilight Zone. This morning it was more X-Files analogies. Oh, and I think she's probably planning an intervention for me even as we speak…"

"What is an intervention?" Cole asked, handing him a glass of water. If he had consumed that much alcohol he would be dehydrated.

"Thanks. It's um…" Vic shrugged, not really sure how to explain the concept to an alien.

Mel explained, "When a person's friends think they might have a problem with drugs or alcohol, they have an intervention. They try to talk the person into understanding that they have an addiction and working to correct that."

"Yes, Mel." Cole nodded. "Drink that, Vic. It will make you feel better."

"So, are we… ready to go?" Vic asked after he had finished that glass and two more that Cole forced on him.

"We're a little worried about your mobility," Mel began.

"Take your clothes off," Cole added.

Vic stared from Cole to Mel who had turned bright red and was sputtering and wearing an expression halfway between mirth and horror. Cole was regarding her in confusion, obviously seeing nothing remarkable in his request. Mirth finally won out and Mel sank onto the couch, giggling and shaking her head as Cole continued to stare quizzically at her.

Vic continued to stare between the two, trying to figure out what was going on and not at all sure he liked where things were going. One too many episodes of the X-Files had him wondering exactly what Cole had planned for him, how much it was going to hurt, and if it would leave a mark. Cole's confusion deepened at the expression on Vic's face. Mel took in their respective looks and only laughed harder. She could guess what was going through Vic's mind.

Finally, she managed to compose herself enough to explain, still laughing, "We want to see how badly injured you are…"

"Oh!" Vic grinned and nodded. "I was… um, curious about that…"

"Why, Vic?" Cole asked.

"Strange request," Vic told him with a shrug.

"Especially coming from an alien," Mel snickered.

Vic grinned and nodded. "Especially coming from an alien," he agreed, winking at Mel.

Cole shook his head. Human in-joke, he supposed. He would ask Mel later. When the two had managed to compose themselves, he told Mel, "Your room would probably be best."

She nodded and rose. "Come on, Vic."

His smile wavered slightly. "Vic, come to my bedroom and take your clothes off?"

Mel laughed and even Cole grinned at that comment.

"Don't worry," Mel told him. "We'll all still respect each other in the morning." Shaking her head at Cole's quizzical expression, she ushered Vic into the bedroom.

Vic stood there for a moment, waiting. "You're staying?" he finally asked Mel.

Mel stared and nodded. "Um, _yes_. Vic, I _have_ seen you naked before. Besides, you can keep your shorts on."

Vic shrugged and sat on the edge of her bed, pulling his shoes off. He looked up at the sound of hushed voices. Cole was whispering to Mel, who was wearing a strange expression of combined anxiety, anticipation, and concentration. Vic continued to watch as he undressed, wondering what he was saying to her.

"Oh, my God!" Mel gasped, covering her mouth with one hand at the sight of the livid bruises covering Vic's torso.

"His back's the same," Cole announced quietly, circling around the bed to look. "Could you stand up, Vic?" he requested. "And turn around?"

Feeling vulnerable and naked in spite of his boxers, Vic rose and slowly turned for their inspection.

"What do you think?" Mel asked quietly, near tears at her friend's injuries.

Cole caressed her throat, not caring that they were not alone. "I think you can do this, Mel."

Vic frowned curiously at that exchange, wondering what he was missing.

"Can we have a few minutes alone?" Mel asked Cole.

Cole smiled gently and nodded. "Call me when you're both ready."

"Both ready for what?" Vic asked, reaching for his pants. "I thought Cole said you were staying here."

Mel took the pants from his hands. "We need to talk."

Vic frowned slightly. "And I can't do this with my pants on… _because_?"

Mel sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "You'll just have to take them off again for the healing."

"Oh." Vic nodded. Made sense. "Cole's going to heal me."

"No." Mel shook her head. Staring up at Vic, she took a deep breath. "I am."


	7. More Than Meets the Eye

****

Chapter 7 -- More Than Meets the Eye

"You?" Vic repeated, staring at her. He crouched in front of her, surprised confusion overcoming self-consciousness. "What do you mean?"

"Um, well, Vic…" She paused, took another deep breath, then sighed again. "God, this is… um, harder than I thought it would be…" She smiled nervously.

"What is, Mel?" Vic asked gently, confused and concerned by her obvious anxiety. "Come on, it's okay. Remember when we broke up?" he asked, keeping his voice low and soothing. "We agreed to still be friends, that we could always tell each other everything? Remember?"

Mel nodded slowly, smiling at him. "Yeah, I do." She absently caressed his throat. "This is big, Vic, and it's probably going to change things with us."

Vic was struck that she was imitating the same gesture that Cole had made towards her earlier. The touch was obscurely comforting. "Hey, _nothing_ is ever going to make us not friends."

"I'm not human," she whispered.

Vic stared. "Beg your pardon?"

"Not human," she repeated, sighing. "Not… not entirely. My grandfather was Cirronian, like Cole."

"Is that even possible?" Vic asked. The idea that hybridization was possible was so stunning that Mel's revelation seemed minor by comparison.

Mel shrugged helplessly. "Living proof, Vic." She stared at him anxiously, waiting for his response.

"Hey, I always knew you were out of this world, right?" he asked with a grin.

Mel smiled faintly, both complimented and pleased. "I should have known that you of all people would accept me anyway," she said, shaking her head. 

"How long have you…" He trailed off, wondering why she had not told him before, if she had not trusted him enough when they were lovers. He did not entirely buy that, though, so he was curious.

"A couple of months," she supplied. "Um, a few months after we broke up I kind of… stumbled onto the truth." 

"Stumbled onto it?" Vic repeated, wondering how one 'stumbled onto' the fact that they were not entirely human. "What happened?"  


"Um, remember when Cole took Kellen's life-force."

Vic shivered. "Not likely to forget that any time soon, Mel."

She nodded. "Yeah, guess not. I was a little ticked off and nearly accidentally did the same thing to Cole," she explained with a little shrug.

"You were pissed at Cole so you were going to suck out his life-force?"

"I wasn't pissed at Cole. I was pissed at Zin. And Nestov."

"Nestov?"

"Um, just your basic alien scum-bag."

"Ah. So you were angry with him and nearly sucked Cole's life-force out, which showed you that you weren't human… _because_?"

"Only Cirronians can use the Collector thingy."

"Ah." Vic nodded. For some reason, that actually made perfect sense to him. "Got you."

"Yeah?" Mel smiled and shook her head. "Now why was I nervous again?"

"Not a clue." Vic grinned widely at her, rising. "So, heal away." He spread his arms.

"I need to get Cole," she told him.

"Does he have to be here?" Vic asked. He knew from experience that healing was an amazing experience, a sharing process, and he very much wanted to share it with Mel alone. As much as he was growing to care for Maria, Mel would always hold a very special place in his heart.

Mel nodded. "Yeah, he kind of does. I've never done this before. Something similar once, but never an actual healing. I need him here to walk me through it."

Vic nodded, smiling at her. He could tell she was nervous. "You'll do fine, Mel."

"Thank you. For everything." Mel touched his throat again and rose.

"That a… Cirronian thing?" Vic asked.

Mel nodded. "Yeah, it's a Cirronian thing. I guess I kind of picked it up hanging out with Cole."

Vic smiled and nodded. "It's nice."

"Yeah, it is." Mel nodded. "Comforting," she said, remembering how Cole had used a similar touch to soothe her after her close call with Tev. "If you're ready, I'll go get Cole."

Vic nodded. "Let's do this."

Mel nodded and opened the bedroom door, calling to Cole. He walked in from his own room, carefully examining each of them in turn. Smiling, he gave a satisfied nod. Things were clearly well with them.

"Vic, if you could lie down on your stomach," Cole requested. "And, Mel, you kneel next to him. We'll start with the bruise on his leg."

"You sure this can't… misfire or anything?" Mel asked. She had seen the kind of damage Cole was capable of doing with his energy when so inclined.

Cole smiled. "Ashi was nervous her first time, too."

  
"Great, I'm on par with a five-year old," Mel muttered.

"She was closer to three at the time," Cole laughed. 

"Great…" Mel shook her head and sighed. "Bear with me, guys," she said, kneeling on the edge of the bed. She looked up at the feel of Cole's strong hand gently grasping her shoulder.

"Just remember what we talked about," Cole soothed. "It's all energy, all connected. Humans, Cirronians, the stars and planets, all parts of the same Whole. No matter who or what we are, we all have a little spark of that Whole inside of us."

Mel nodded and drew a deep breath, gentle splaying her hands over the bruise on Vic's upper leg and closing her eyes. The feel of Vic's flesh under her hands and Cole's hands on her back combined to remind her of the connection of which Cole spoke.

"Don't think," Cole advised. "Just let it happen."

"Given and received in trust," Mel whispered, nodding as she repeated what Cole had told her the night before. "To give of yourself for the good of another…" She trailed off as she felt the energy fields within her shifting. She felt Vic's gasp as she became aware of the energy pouring from her into him. Too much energy, she knew. It would not hurt _him_, but she could feel her own body protesting.

"Slowly, Mel," Cole whispered, sensing the drain. "Gently. It doesn't take much. Pace yourself or you'll tire."

Mel nodded and pulled back a little of the energy, smiling. She could feel it work, could actually _feel_ Vic's pain receding. And then there was no pain at all.

She opened her eyes with a laugh, staring at his no longer bruised leg. "I did it!" she exclaimed in triumph.

Cole smiled proudly. "Yes, Mel. You did it."

"Okay, Mel," Vic said, shaking his head. "I used to think you were amazing. Now I _know_ you are."

"It was a very good start," Cole agreed, nodding. 

"Good start," Mel repeated, realizing that she now had to repeat the same effort two more times and on a much larger scale. Somehow, though, she knew that she could. She flexed her hands a few times and moved farther up the bed. "Ready, Vic?" she asked.

He nodded, smiling at her. "More than."

"Okay." 

Mel straddled his back and rested her hands on his shoulders, reaching inward. This time, she kept her eyes opened, smiling widely as she saw the glow under her hands as she slid them down his back, leaving it flawlessly healed. Without a word of guidance from Cole. She was drained by the effort, but not exhausted, and she knew instinctively that she had enough left in her to do it again.

"Roll over, roll over," she told Vic, feeling elated.

"Mel, rest a moment," Cole told her.

"Come on, Cole! I can do this! I'm in the zone!" Mel jumped off the bed and pulled the Cirronian into a bear-hug. "This is _amazing_! It's like… a hot-fudge sundae followed by really great sex!" she laughed. "Followed by _another_ hot-fudge sundae," she enthused.

Cole smiled tolerantly and shook his head, gently pushing her away, aware that Vic was staring at them, unsure what to make of Mel's uncharacteristic behavior.

"Mel, take a few deep breaths," Cole advised gently. "Your energy is unbalanced and it's affecting your behavior."

"It is?" she asked, frowning. "You sure?"

Cole nodded. "Yes, Mel." He touched his hand to her forehead but released no energy. That would only have compounded the problem. "The imbalance is causing your brain to release endorphins."

"She's high?" Vic asked, sitting up.

Cole had to think a minute before he remembered that 'high' was also human slang for drug-induced euphoria. "Yes, Vic."

"She going to be okay?" he asked, frowning.

"Whoa," Mel groaned as the high vanished as abruptly as it had appeared, leaving her just plain tired. "That was interesting…"

Cole helped her to sit down. "Rest now. You can finished once your energies are balanced again."

Mel nodded and flopped back onto the bed. "That's totally different than reenergizing your life-force was."

Cole nodded. "Different energies are called upon."

"Reenergizing your life-force?" Vic repeated, glancing at Cole.

Cole nodded and quietly explained what had happened with Zin on the occasion when he had lost his Cirronian powers and how they had discovered that Mel was part Cirronian as a result. His explanation of the different types of energy required for the two different processes was interrupted by a groan from Mel.

"You didn't tell me I'd end up with a hang-over," she moaned, rolling onto her stomach.

"It will pass," Cole assured her, gently rubbing the back of her neck until he found the right pressure-point. He gave a sharp jab, drawing an outraged yelp from Mel.

"Hey!" she protested, pulling away and sitting up. She frowned thoughtfully. "Hangover's gone…"

"Yes, Mel," Cole agreed.

"Next time warn me." She shook her head. "That hurt."

"Yes, Mel," he repeated. "We should finish with Vic now, Mel."

She shook her head. "We _will_ talk about this later," she told him firmly.

"Yes, Mel." Cole smiled faintly.

Mel closed her eyes and sighed. "Okay, okay. Vic, lie down."

Vic nodded and reclined on the bed. He blinked as Mel straddled him at waist-level and rested her hands on his chest. Looking up at her, he struggled to keep a straight face. Struggling to keep his laughter, breathing, and certain other physiological reactions in check was a loosing battle. He closed his eyes, his body shaking with embarrassed laughter.

"Yeah, I know," she muttered, nodding and closing her own eyes. "_Awkward as hell_…"

Cole frowned and rested his hand on her shoulder again. "It's okay, Mel," he reassured her gently. "Just reach inside, claim what's yours…"

Mel focused intently on his voice as she slid her hands down Vic's chest. Feeling Vic's sensations and emotions had her feeling guilty of voyeurism. He was doing his best to ignore how good the healing felt, to remember that they were _just_ friends. She jerked her hands off of his chest with a start as an image of Maria's smiling face filled her awareness.

"What?" he asked, half sitting up. "Are you okay?"

"Mel?" Cole asked, concerned. 

"Okay, _that_ was just strange," Mel muttered, ignoring both men.

"What was?" Vic asked.

"What did you see, Mel?" Cole added.

"You were thinking of Maria."

Vic's eyes widened. "Well, y… you know… um… I mean…" He shifted defensively.

"I know what you mean," Mel said softly. "I… I know what you were trying _not_ to think about. And I appreciate it."

Vic nodded slowly, swallowing hard. "Thanks, Mel."

Mel slid off of the bed. There was one bruise left, a large one on his stomach. "Cole, can Vic and I have a second?"

"Yes, Mel." He nodded. "I'll be in the living room."

"Okay. Thank you." When he had gone and closed the door, Mel sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.

Vic gave her an apologetic shrug. "Didn't know telepathy was part of the deal or I would _not_ have been thinking about Maria," he began awkwardly. "I just…"

"I know." Mel smiled at him, touching his throat reassuringly. "Thank you for respecting the fact that we don't have a physical relationship any more. I can't tell you how much I appreciate that."

Vic stared at Mel, awed. She had _changed_. She was so different from the woman he had dated less than a year ago that he barely recognized her. There was an ancient, ageless quality about her, a sense of serenity that the frenetic Mel Porter had _never_ displayed. She was still the gentle, compassionate woman he had loved, _still_ loved, but she was different, too. It was hard to quantify, but it was there, just beneath the surface. Her association with Cole had changed her. Hesitantly, he reached towards her throat, his face curious. 

Mel leaned forward, allowing the touch, encouraging it. His touch was as awkward for her as their earlier position had been for Vic, but also necessary. He was doing his best to understand, and she thought this could help. If nothing else, she was rendering herself as vulnerable to him as he was to her. Since she could not make his position _less_ vulnerable, it was the best way to put them back on equal footing.

"Wow," was all he could think to say as he dropped his hand. There was a strength there, a _passion_, that he had never even suspected Mel of having. It was amazing, uplifting. He smiled and chuckled softly. "_You_, Melanie Porter, are a butterfly."

"And you, Victor Bruno, are high on endorphins," she replied, grinning.

He shook his head, amazed. "You really don't see it? Wow."

"See what?"

"Yourself."

Mel frowned and shook her head. "Let's get this last bruise taken care of," she suggested. 

Vic obediently reclined again. "You've changed, Mel, come out of your cocoon." He closed his eyes as she healed the last injury. "And, damn, you are _glorious_…"

Mel shifted uncomfortably. "Vic, don't…"

He sat up again, catching her hands in his. "Look at yourself, Mel."

She shook her head. "Vic…"

"Look at me. Look at what you just did to me." He placed one of her hands on his stomach, where the last bruise had been. "Look me in the eye and tell me that this is not an amazing thing that you have done."

"Vic…"

"Shh," he whispered. "I know we're over, Mel. I know that we'll never have that kind of relationship again. That's _not_ what this is about."

"It's not me." She shook her head. "Not really. I don't deserve this gift. I was so scared at first…"

"You think that makes you any less amazing?" Vic asked, shaking his head and pulling her into a gentle, almost brotherly hug. "Of _course_ you were scared, honey. Who wouldn't be? But that doesn't change a thing."

"It does, though. That's just it," Mel sighed, sliding her arms around him. "I'm _still_ scared. _All_ the time. I'm not like you and Cole…"

"You think I'm not scared by all this? That Cole isn't? Mel, we're _all_ scared here. Horrified. We'd be stupid not to be."

She shook her head. "Cole's not scared of anything."  


"Hey, Cole!" Vic shouted.

Mel recoiled, startled by the shout. "Vic," she protested.

Cole hurried into the bedroom. "Is something wrong?" he asked, looking from Mel to Vic.

"Mel thinks you aren't afraid," Vic told him, rising and reaching for his clothes.

Cole frowned in confusion, looking from Vic to Mel, trying to make sense of the statement. When its meaning hit home, he could not help but smile faintly. "Every day of my life," he told Mel honestly. "Scared that Zin will find the weapon, that someone else will die because I'm always one step behind, that they'll come after you again…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "Mel, fear is… it's not something to feel ashamed of. It's a tool to be used, a… motivation to do what you have to."

Vic could see the love in the Cirronian's eyes as he spoke. He could hardly blame him. "Tell her how special she is," he suggested to Cole. In the past he had always, without reason, been jealous of Cole. Now that he had an actual reason to be, though, he found himself not jealous at all. It was hard to see the joy that Mel's very _presence_ gave Cole without being anything other than happy for him. It was strange to Vic, but it felt right, too.

"You are as rare and beautiful as a Cirronian sunrise," Cole told her simply.

"Cirron doesn't _have_ sunrises," Mel pointed out, embarrassed to be on the receiving end of such strong praise from the two most important men in her life.

"I know. But if it did, they would be almost as amazing as you."

Cole gazed at her with so much intensity that even Vic could feel it. The human would not have been entirely surprised if Cole had started glowing like a firefly. Vic dressed quickly, doing his best to ignore and be ignored as the two stood, just staring at each other in rapt silence. He slipped from the room in silence, unnoticed. There was no longer the slightest doubt in his mind that the two were lovers, but he could no longer find it in himself to be even a little jealous. Regretful, perhaps, but not jealous. In light of Mel's revelation, he could not help but wonder if the two were _destined_ to have found each other.

Sighing, wondering if he would ever find anything as special as those two had, he walked into the war-room. There was a matted print on one wall that he had not noticed before. _Impressionist Sunrise_, the caption declared. And on the matte, in Mel's neat, intricate handwriting, a short note. '_Every time you look on this piece of home, know that a love like ours is as rare and as beautiful as a Cirronian sunrise._'

Vic shook his head, tears in his eyes. Cole was a _very _lucky man. Vic regarded the painting, wondering if the amazingly vivid colors really _did_ resemble Cole's home. Smiling in spite of his tears, he kissed two of his fingers and pressed them to the glass over the picture, over Mel's handwriting. Strange how, when he had had only suspicions, he had been so jealous of Cole, but now, that he knew the truth, he could not find it in his heart to be anything other than happy for them. Maybe knowing how Maria felt about him, how he felt about her, helped, but he thought there was more to it than that. The simple knowledge that Cole was good for Mel. 

It hurt to think of her with another man, but they seemed so _happy_ together, too. He shook his head again, wondering if he would ever be able to see the two of them together without the knife twisting just a little more deeply. Would time heal the wound or only intensify the pain? Did it really matter if Mel was happy?He smiled and dried his tears, shaking his head. He stared at the picture until he heard footsteps behind him. 

"I was beginning to think we were going to have to put this operation off until another day," he said with a grin, not turning around.

"Are you upset?" Mel asked softly. He was looking at the picture, at the inscription. He knew.

"Yes, but I'll get over it." Vic turned and smiled at her. "You two are… amazing together." The admission hurt, but it was the truth.

"I was always faithful to you…"

Vic laughed softly. "Of _course_ you were. I know that." He nodded. "Mel…" He shook his head, smiling at her. "Look at you…"

"I don't see what you and Cole see." She shook her head. "I can't. I've tried, but…"

  
"Hush," he suggested, approaching her. "Show me how Cirronians say good bye."

She frowned uncertainly. 

"No, I am _not_ walking out of your life, Mel." He smiled and shook his head. "You aren't going to get rid of me that easily. I'm just… accepting that I'm never going to play the part in it that I might like to. Show me how Cirronians say good bye," he repeated.

Mel rested one of her hands over his heart, covering it with one of his own and then rested his other hand over her heart, covering it with hers. "Like this."

"It's perfect, very fitting." He kissed her cheek. "Now, how do they say 'I love you'?"

"Can't pronounce it," Mel told him quietly. She was grateful that he understood and accepted her relationship with Cole.

Cole stood at the door, watching them with a small smile. There had been a strain between them since the breakup that was gone now. He was glad to see them friends again. It did not matter what had passed before. Vic would be a valuable ally to him and, more importantly, a close friend to Mel. It was right, fitting, as it was meant to be. In a gentle voice, he supplied the phrase that he knew suited Vic's feelings for Mel as well as it suited his own feelings for her. "Hwa'annin, ey tenat anyahka."


	8. Just a Training Exercise

****

Chapter 8 -- Just a Training Exercise…

"Cole can you hear me?" Mel's voice came over the headset. She was at home, watching their progress on one of the satellites that Cole had hacked into for the occasion. The colored blips clearly indicated humans, fugitives, and the single Cirronian.

"Yes, Mel," Cole whispered.

"Vic?"  


"Loud and clear," he replied.

"Great. Seven humans and a fugitive about 150 feet in front of you."

Vic peered around the boxcar they were taking cover behind and nodded. "I see them, Mel. They're all uniformed. MPs. Which one is our fugitive?"

"Far left, flanked by two others."

Vic nodded. "See him. Tall guy, wearing shades."

"Enixian," Cole whispered, leaning around Vic for a quick look. "Mel, any other fugitives in the area?"

"None that I can see, no."

Cole sighed and nodded. "Okay. Tell us if that changes."  


"Copy that," Mel replied.

Cole frowned faintly. "I said, 'okay. Tell us if that changes'. Is your reception unclear, Mel?"

Vic chuckled softly, and could hear Mel doing the same. 

She explained, "It means that I heard you."

"Oh. Yes, Mel." 

Vic shook his head, amused. "Mel, lay off the CB lingo, okay?"

"10-4, good buddy," came the reply.

Cole stared at Vic, unsure why he was laughing. Another human in-joke, he supposed. These humans had books for everything, including lame pick-up lines, but no one had ever thought to write one which could explain why humans considered some things funny. Watching Vic struggle to contain his laughter and hearing Mel's soft chuckles over the headset, he doubted it all would have _fit_ into a single volume. On Cirron, Terrestrial humor probably would have been a life-long pursuit, attempted by only the most dedicated of scholars.

"What if Zarreth decides to strike somewhere else?" Vic asked in a low voice.

"Then we're screwed," Mel replied.

Cole frowned, not quite understanding the word in that context. "We'll think of something else."

"Cole!" Mel hissed. "There's a fugitive behind you, 50 feet and closing!"

Cole and Vic both spun and saw nothing.

Vic shook his head. "No, Mel. There's no one there."

"Dessarians, Vic," Cole reminded him gently, looking around.

"Right. And how do you spot one?"

Cole shrugged. "You don't." He scanned the area thoughtfully for a moment, taking a step forward.

"Getting warmer, Cole."

Cole nodded and continued walking, allowing himself to be guided by Mel's voice. Vic stared for a moment, then followed.

"Red hot, Cole. Turn to your left and you've got her."

Cole spun on his heel and spoke to the brick wall in from of him. "Hello, Zarreth."

A girl, not more than 15 seemed to step out of the wall. She was a tiny little thing, harmless-looking to Vic. "I never did get a chance to repay you for depriving me of my last body," she sneered at Cole, ignoring Vic. "So much harder to pick up museum curators in this one…"

Cole smiled benignly, shrugging. "If it's any comfort, you won't be forced to deal with this one for much longer."

"If you say so." Shrugging, Zarreth backhanded Cole, sending him flying.

"Jeez!" Vic yelped, taking an involuntary step backwards. Watching a girl who could not have been more than 95 pounds tossing Cole several feet was startling to say the least. Fortunately, they were still obscured from view of the soldiers by the train-car.

"You _must_ be getting desperate," Zarreth laughed, closing on Cole before he could rise and kicking him in the side. "Recruiting _humans_?" She shook her head in obvious contempt and kicked him again. Steel-tipped boots connected with his body and he could clearly hear bones breaking.

Cole groaned and struggled to pull himself to his feet.

"Cole? Vic? Talk to me!" Mel's voice came over the headsets.

"Mel, do these things have a weakness?" Vic hissed, flattening himself against a wall as Cole and Zarreth pummeled each other.

"No, and you've got bigger problems. The fugitive from the military contingent is coming your way…"

"Um, Enixian… Cole said he was Enixian earlier."  


"Loud noises and bright lights, Vic! Use the dog-whistle."

Vic nodded and fumbled in his pockets for the panic-button that he had been given. It emitted a loud noise, outside the range of human hearing but, apparently, enough to disable an Enixian. He hit it as soon as the soldier rounded the corner, amazed when the uniformed man immediately dropped to the ground, clutching his ears and screaming.

"Vax, you moron! Stop that howling!" Zarreth snapped, not bothering to take her attention from her assault on Cole. Pay-back could be such a glorious thing and she had no intention of rushing things. 

Keeping one finger firmly on the button, Vic took a deep breath and walked up to Zarreth, who had not spared him so much as a glance since commenting on his presence. Unable to believe his own gall, or possibly sheer stupidity, he tapped her on the shoulder. Startled, she spun to face him by instinct, her face betraying confusion.

Vic gave her a smile. "Hi, um… Vic Bruno, Robbery/Homicide," he said in an anxious voice as she stared incredulous. Behind her, Cole was struggling to his feet. "Now would be a _really_ good time to look behind you," he suggested.

Zarreth spun again, realizing a moment too late that her opponent was not only on his feet, but also holding his Collector in her path. She emitted a prolonged howl that managed to outdo Vax's screaming as Cole ripped the life-force from her body, using her own momentum. Vic swallowed hard. It was as bad this time as it had been the first. He doubted he would _ever_ grow used to the site of Cole ripping out another person's _soul_.

Stepping over Zarreth, Cole advanced on the still-screaming Enixian. "You can take your finger off the button now, Vic," Cole suggested, pulling Vax to his feet with one hand and raising the Collector with the other.

Three soldiers rounded the corner, guns raised, just in time to see Cole Collect the Enixian's life-force. They froze in fearful confusion.

"Chicago PD," Vic announced, slowly raising his badge only to find three M-16s leveled in his direction. "Robbery/Homicide," he added quietly, staring at Cole for guidance.

Cole looked from Vic to the soldiers. "Don't you have a shipment of smallpox to be guarding?" he asked mildly, going into hyper-speed and grabbing Vic. He ran, dragging Vic with him, until his hyper-speed ability faltered.

"What the--" Vic gasped, looking around fearfully.

"Just run," Cole panted, grabbing his arm and pushing. "Men with guns, remember."

"Vic? Cole? Can you hear me?" Mel's voice was frantic over the headset.

"Yeah, Mel," Vic panted, running in the direction Cole indicated, realizing that Mel, not able to hear much more than screaming, must have been horrified for them. "Cole got them both."

"Are you both okay? Are you hurt?"

"No," Vic told her, clambering into the car that Cole had left waiting. He belatedly realized that he was wrong. "I think Cole might be hurt," he said, glancing at the Cirronian in the passenger-seat, doubled over and panting raggedly.

"Okay. Get back here now."

"On our way," Vic assured her, starting the car.

***

"_Ah_!" Cole groaned as Vic poked at his side. He was laying on Mel's bed, shirtless, his side one massive bruise.

"Definitely broken," Vic sighed, shaking his head and glancing up at Mel. "Can you fix this?"

"Um…" Mel glanced at Cole, her eyes wide and questioning.

Cole nodded weakly, groping for her hands. She slid both hands into his and allowed him to slide them into place over the injury. 

"Close your eyes, follow my lead," Cole managed, closing his own eyes and focusing on the damage. In the car he had managed to heal the punctured lung and internal bleeding, but had been too weak to deal with the broken bones. "Mel," he began. "This will take a lot from you."

"It's okay. Just do it."

Cole sighed and nodded weakly, allowing what was left of his energy to combine with hers. "Yes," he breathed, nodding. He could feel Mel's effort to direct her power and his own directly to the injury, to economize both of their energy. The pain began to recede, replaced by beautiful, soothing warmth. "Perfect, you're doing just fine, Mel."

Mel nodded and closed her eyes. "I feel it. Wait… There." She smiled weakly. "All better."

"All better," Cole agreed, nodding and reaching up as she slumped forward. "Rest now, Mel," he whispered, easing her onto the bed and positioning her comfortably. "Rest now. You'll be better in a few hours. He pressed his lips against her forehead. Sleep well."

She smiled and nodded languidly. "Mmm, that feels good," she yawned. "Healing people like that…"

"Yes, Mel," Cole agreed, nodding. "Better than a hot-fudge sundae followed by really great sex. Followed by another hot-fudge sundae. Sleep well…"

Vic smiled and shook his head, turning to leave. 

"Vic," Mel called, raising her hand.

"Yeah, Mel?" he asked, moving to her side and taking her hand in his.

"Great job. You did good out there."

"Actually, I nearly got us both killed."

"S'okay," she yawned, smiling. "So did I the first couple of times out of the box." She closed her eyes. "Ten out of ten for guts, minus several million for good thinking. But ten out of ten for style…" She gave a small laugh. "Um, call it an 8.3…" she yawned. "I'm proud of you, Vic."

"Thanks, Mel." He smiled and gave her hand a gentle squeeze before resting it on her chest and leaving the already sleeping woman.

"This isn't a job," Vic told Cole, following him down the stairs. "It's… suicide-camp."

Cole smiled and nodded. "Yes, Vic."

"God, no wonder you want to be a civilian again so much," Vic laughed, patting his shoulder. He stopped abruptly, his smile faded, replaced by surprise as he saw the woman sitting at the bar. "Mar…"

Maria waved absently from her seat at the bar, rising and moving to intercept them. "Somehow, I _knew_ I'd find you here, Vicky."

"Vicky?" Cole repeated, tilting his head at Vic.

"Don't ask, man." Vic shook his head. "Detective Maria Cruz, Robbery/Homicide, Cole Hauser…" he trailed off, wondering exactly _how_ to introduce a cop like Cole to people.

"INS," Cole supplied without missing a beat as he shook her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"INS?" Maria repeated, frowning.

"Yes." Cole nodded, smiling faintly. "I apprehend… illegal aliens."

Vic bit his lower lip. 

"I see. Nice to meet you." Maria smiled at him and took Vic by the arm. "Come on, you. We need to go have a _long_ talk."

"See you later, Cole," Vic called over one shoulder, feeling like a lamb being led to the slaughter. 

"Yes, Vic. Good bye, Detective Cruz." Cole smiled and watched them go, shaking his head. 

"Vic finally get himself a new girl?" Bridgett asked curiously.

"Looks that way," Cole said, smiling. "I'll be upstairs if you need help."

"Okay. Later."

"Later," he agreed, smiling and going to watch over Mel.

***

"INS, Vicky?" Maria asked, shaking her head as they walked into her house. "You could have saved me a _lot_ of worry…"

"I'd have told you if I could…"

"I know." She sighed and nodded, turning on the TV.

"Military denies any involvement," the announcer on the news was saying. Her hair blew in the slight lake-effect breeze as she stood in a train-yard swarming with people. "Back to Mike in the studio…"

"What the hell?" Maria muttered, frowning and staring at the TV as thought she expected it to answer her. 

"Eh, just a training exercise," Vic assured her, smiling and turning off the TV, uncomfortable. "So, we were going to have a long talk?"

"Were we?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

"Weren't we?" he asked, smiling back.

"Actually," she said, taking a step towards him, "I think we were going to skip the talking part altogether…"

"Really?" Vic asked, smiling down at her.

"Really." She nodded. 

Vic grinned. His week was suddenly going a _lot_ better. "I can handle that," he assured her, wondering if it was about to come down to having to explain his sudden lack of bruising to her. It was sure looking that way. _Fast healer?_

"You sure about that?" she asked with a grin and a wink. "I'm a _lot_ bigger than Gregory James…"

Vic sighed deeply, shaking his head. "_Never_ going to live that down, am I?"

Maria shook her head. "Not on my watch, Vicky."

****

The End


End file.
